


Growing Seasons: A Universe of Us

by SooSooDyo (Phinphin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Bottom Kyungsoo, Cabbages, Farmer Kyungsoo, Graphic Descriptions of blood, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Instagram lesbians, Kimchi making, M/M, Mentions of past killings, More tags to be added, Non-Penetrative Sex, PTSD, Questionable fashion, Slice of Life, Smut, Snowballing, Tanned Jongin, Tanned Kyungsoo, Violence, farmer au, farmer jongin, mentions of minor character death, sad grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-07 22:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 77,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14680916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phinphin/pseuds/SooSooDyo
Summary: Jongin has lived his whole life in the small village of Yukgye-ri, farming cabbages and running the family kimchi making business. One day he wakes up to find an unknown bloodied man passed out in his cabbage field, and in an act of good conscience brings the man inside to help him. Having lost all his memories except for his name, the unknown man Kyungsoo turns out to be the one to change Jongin's life forever





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! THE LONG FIC!
> 
> I can't believe how much time I've spent on this but I am actually really pleased with the result so it has been more than worth it. As it stands right now I have the whole fic written and 8 out of 10 chapters having gone through their first edit. It will probably be somewhere between one and two weeks between updates depending on the lenght of the chapters and how busy I am but I will try my hardest to never go over two weeks! There will be some potentially triggering topics later on in the fic so please keep an eye out on the tags, I will update them as I go so to avoid spoilers. 
> 
> Now! Please enjoy my cabbage baby!

Like every morning before, the sun rose slowly over the small village of Yukgye-ri, illuminating the many fields and the small village square. The sunlight danced on the shingled roofs, chasing away the coldness of night and warming up the small sprouts of what would become the first spring harvest.

 

The warm rays made their way inside one of the houses on the outskirts of the village, filtering through cracked wooden window shutters and illuminating dust particles that danced through the air. With each passing moment the room grew brighter, the stone walls plastered white soaking up the heat. Unhurriedly, the sun shone on the person curled up on the futon in the middle of the room, slowly bringing him out of the depths of sleep.

 

The blaring of an alarm broke through the peaceful stillness and Jongin groaned, burying himself further into the pillow. Just a few minutes more please. It could not possibly be 5AM already. It had been 9PM just seconds ago when Jongin had closed his eyes.

 

Blindly, Jongin reached out towards his alarm clock, smacking it a few times to shut it up before bringing it close to his face. He didn’t open his eyes just yet, the sun far too bright for his eyes used to darkness and the bed far too comfortable for the responsibilities waiting for him to wake up.

 

When he felt himself slip too close to sleep again Jongin forced himself to open his eyes, knowing oversleeping would be worse than confirming that it indeed was 5AM could ever be. The red numbers of the alarm clock slowly came into view and Jongin groaned again, rolling over on his back and cursing the morning gods.

 

05:04 the clock read.

 

With dejected compliance he sat up. Another day awaited him. Another field to water and another set of cabbage sprouts to care for. Another lunch and another dinner and before he needed to be back in bed to repeat the same old thing over again. Maybe he should make his way down to Mrs Choi’s café today, just to get some variation in his daily cycle.

 

Jongin contemplated the idea, blindly staring at a crack in his plaster wall. His thoughts drifted away from Mrs Choi and the café and onto even less engaging things, until he had slipped halfway back into sleep.

 

The alarm went off again and Jongin jerked, almost falling over in his haste to turn off the alarm. Shit, he must be really tired if he had actually needed his back up alarm. Quickly, he stood up so he couldn’t fall asleep again. He pulled off his underwear lazily, kicking them into the laundry basket, and walked over to his wardrobe and slid the door open.

 

Once dressed he made his way into the kitchen and straight to the fridge. Grabbing a small pack of drinkable yogurt, he pushed through the metal film covering the opening with his front teeth and tore another page from his calendar. 19th of April. Another day like any other day. Jongin took another sip of his yoghurt and moved to open up the window shutters and let some light into the dark kitchen. With fumbling fingers he undid the latch and forced the wooden shutters open.

 

The outside world stretched out in front of him, the white plaster of his neighbours’ traditional houses shining in the distance and the morning dew clinging to the fields making them sparkle in the sunlight. His closest neighbours, the Kangs, were already up and tending to their rice field.

 

Jongin’s own small but fruitful cabbage field faced the east and lay behind his house. His late grandmother’s great grandparents had first toiled it when they moved to Yukgye-ri in the late 19th century, and it had been used to support the family ever since. Jongin’s parents had originally planned on moving the family away from the countryside and into the city, but when they had both died in a car crash when Jongin was 12 he had ended up spending his childhood helping his grandmother with the cabbage field and learning to make kimchi according to his great great grandmother’s original recipe. When the time had come for university and following his family’s wishes Jongin had found that he would much rather stay here.

 

Not that he had had much choice with the grades he had graduated with and all, but Jongin didn’t mind. He liked the village, liked the people here. He liked the harsh but uncomplicated life that worked in the same way it always had. He like the Choi’s and their café, and he liked tending to his cabbage field and spending his summers and autumns making batches of kimchi. Many might say it was a boring life but for him it was everything he needed. Calm, peaceful, meaningful and on his conditions.

 

Jongin smiled, downing the last of his yogurt before throwing the bottle in the sink. He would deal with it later. On bare feet he made his way to the door connecting his kitchen with an old, traditional, no longer used kitchen. Jongin stepped into his nike slippers waiting on the pressed dirt floor and shuddered at the cold that still lingered in the room.

 

It was the oldest part of the house and almost nothing had been changed about the old kitchen since his grand grand grandparents first built it. There was a large stone sink in front of the frosted window. Next to it were a set of large wooden tubs used for washing vegetables and along the walls hung shelves full of old trinkets. Half of them Jongin had no idea what they were but he didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Opposite the door leading outside was his pantry, almost empty after the long winter.

 

With a lingering look to the old clay jars used to store kimchi that his grandmother’s father had brought with him from a visit to Seoul when she had been mere 14 years old, Jongin pushed open the door leading to the outside. The warm rays of the sun hit his cheek and Jongin drew in a deep breath, ready to take care of his cabbage field.

 

There was a man in his cabbage field.

 

Jongin pulled the door shut with a bang, blinking several times over as he tried to make sense of what he had seen. A man. In _his_ cabbage field. He slowly pushed the door open again, only a small crack this time, and peered out.

 

The man in the cabbage field was still there, stumbling among the carefully tilled ridges and stepping on several of the cabbage shoots. Jongin gasped. He had to save his cabbage babies!

 

He turned around, running back into the kitchen and almost tripping on his slippers in his haste to get them off. He looked around, searching for something to arm himself with. His eyes fell on his knives and he lunged forwards, grabbing hold of his meat cleaver before realizing that it was a far from ideal weapon with his non-existent martial arts skills. Not that meat cleavers were used in martial arts. Or were they?

 

He was getting side tracked, he needed to save his cabbages. He put the knife back in the knife block and instead hurried further into the house, to his bedroom. There, in the corner behind the chair that doubled as his laundry pile, stood an old baseball bat Jongin had gotten for his 15th birthday when he had thought he had liked sports. It had never been used.

 

With clammy hands Jongin grabbed the metal handle and hurried back towards the old kitchen, tripping over his feet in his nervous state. He quietly cursed as he struggled to put on his slippers, thoughts not leaving the man stomping around in his cabbage field and ruining his harvest.

 

With a forced deep breath Jongin pushed the door open and stumbled out into the sunlight, bat raised and ready to strike whoever might come into his path. 30 meters in front of him lay the man, collapsed into a small pile by the edge of the field. Jongin nervously looked around, making sure this was the same man and that he didn’t have the worst luck in the entire village with two field ruiners on his hands. There was no one else.

 

“Good morning?” He called cautiously, taking a step forwards and trying to gauge if the man was conscious.  “Hello? Mister?” He took another step forward, trying to get a glimpse of the man. He was definitely not anyone from the village. So much he had been able to tell from the first short glimpse he had gotten. The man was wearing clothes that wouldn’t look too off on one of the romantic dramas Jongin sometimes watched at night. A white shirt, wet with presumably sweat, a nice jacket, and black pants. The man’s hair was cut short and styled up.

 

Maybe he was a city boy who had gotten drunk and somehow wandered here by accident?

 

Jongin cautiously lowered his bat, calling out his greetings once again as he crept closer. The man didn’t move and once he was about a meter away from the man Jongin slowly extended his bat, poking the him a little more harshly than intended.

 

“Are you okay?” Jongin asked, poking the man again.

 

Nothing, not even a twitch. Jongin let his bat fall to the side, sighing as he took in the sight of the crumbled man. What was he supposed to do now? What did one do with a trespasser that obviously needed help? He was probably still drunk out of his mind. Jongin looked around, noting the Kangs working over in their rice field. He could head over to them and ask for help but he didn’t want to be a bother. He could manage one drunk man alone, couldn’t he?

 

Jongin looked back down at the man, stepping closer as he assessed the man’s size and build. He looked quite a bit smaller than Jongin yet he also looked quite a bit stronger. His muscles weren’t large but they looked like they had been honed from years of use. Nothing like the ‘city buff’ tourists that Mr Choi complained about whenever he saw them in his wife’s café. The man looked young too with his narrow shoulders and shorter stature, but the clothes made him appear older than Jongin.

 

But Jongin was strong too, muscles toned from years and years of physical labour, and he was used to working with his body. In a fight between the two of them Jongin should come out on top. Especially when considering the man was drunk. Yes, he should come up on top.

 

He got this. Right?

 

Jongin poked the trespasser once more, this time aiming for the head for maximum annoyance in case the man was just pretending to be passed out. The head lolled to the side from the force of the poke and a bloodied face came into view. A gash above the trespasser’s left eyebrow was bleeding sluggishly and from what Jongin could see he had a split lip as well.

 

“Shit.” Jongin cursed, feeling panic grow inside of him. He looked around himself and caught sight of the Kangs, sending them a, hopefully, reassuring smile despite them being too far away to properly see anything. It was just in case they looked over and thought he didn’t have the situation under control. Because he had. Totally under control. Completely and 100% under control.

 

“Are you okay?” He whisper shouted at the man, bending down and letting his hand hover over the unconscious body. “Mister?” He asked, looking around himself to see if there were anything that could tell him what he was supposed to do in this situation.

 

A small bag lay a few meters away from them, one probably belonging to the trespasser, and Jongin quickly hurried over to it before realizing that a man with a head wound was more important than keeping track of said man’s belongings. He hurried back, none too gently pushing the man over on his back and pulling him up to sitting by his armpits before realizing that if he were to pull the man into his home it would be quite rude to leave the backpack behind.

 

Jongin dropped the man, hurrying over to the backpack again and pulling a strap over his head and chest before moving back to the man. Once again, he grabbed him by the armpits but this time around the bag was in the way.

 

Jongin made a noise of distress, dropping the man for a second time before sprinting off toward his house to deposit of the bag. He came halfway before remembering his bat and that he should probably take that into his house as well, and turned back for that too but only came a quarter of the way before figuring out it was probably more important to get the man inside than the bag and the bat.

 

He dropped both items, profusely apologizing to the unconscious man as he for the third time grabbed him under the armpits and started pulling him towards the house. Once again, he turned his head towards the Kangs, by now nothing more than small dots over in their field, and gave them another reassuring smile.

 

“I’ve got this!” He called to them, mostly to convince himself, before huffing and pulling the man another meter closer to the entrance. He was heavier than Jongin had expected. He realized that pulling the man along like this probably wasn’t the best way to deal with an unconscious body and released him once more. Instead of pulling him by the shoulders he grabbed hold under the man’s knees and around his back, lifting him up bridal style with a huff.

 

Once inside Jongin put the man down on his couch and quickly hurried back outdoors to collect the bag and his bat.  He deposited them next to the couch before hurrying over to the phone in the kitchen and beginning to dial the number to Doctor Nam who ran the small medical practise some 20 minutes’ walk from here.

 

His fingers halted, an advice his grandmother had given him many years ago replaying in his head. _You should do everything you can yourself before calling others to help_. Jongin dropped the receiver and hurried over to the bathroom where his first aid kit was stored.

 

With trembling fingers he pulled out the green bag from his linen cabinet. With it came half of the stockpile of shampoo that Jongin had stored on the same shelf, the many bottles clattering against his tiled floor and making Jongin jump from the sudden noise. He decided to ignore them, mind too panicked to be able to focus on more than one thing at the moment.

 

He made his way back to the living room, his heart pounding in his chest. The stress over the situation was making his breathing shallow and his palms clammy with sweat. He couldn’t do this. Why had he brought the man into his home? Why hadn’t he just called Doctor Nam? This was all such a stupid idea.

 

He rounded the couch, having made up his mind to leave the first aid kit by the trespasser’s side, call Doctor Nam, and have the doctor use whatever he needed out of the first aid kit whenever he came.

 

The couch was empty.

 

“Shit.” Jongin cursed, turning around to look for the man and coming face to face with said man. He had Jongin’s baseball bat in a steady grip, ready to swing at any second. The left side of his face was covered in blood from the cut in his eyebrow, his eye swollen to the point where it was almost unusable. There was a snarl on his face, and his breath came in short, controlled pants. He looked completely deranged.

 

“What did you do to me?!” The intruder spat, glaring at Jongin impressively well for someone who looked beaten half to death.

 

“Nothing.” Jongin answered quickly, shaking his head and holding the first aid kit against his chest as if it were a shield.

 

“LIES!” The man growled. “Tell me what you have done!” He demanded, taking a step forwards and making Jongin scramble backwards, almost tripping over his coffee table.

 

“Nothing!” Jongin repeated, his voice shaky. “I found you in my cabbage field and you were trampling-”

 

“Where am I?!” The man interrupted, taking yet another step forward and Jongin backed up again. His back hit the wall and Jongin pressed himself flat against it, trying to make himself small.

  
“In my grandmother’s house.” He answered quickly. The man frowned, obviously not expecting the answer. His right eye blinked quickly and his hands squeezed the handle of the bat.

 

“Where-...where’s that?” The man asked, voice softer.

 

“Oh!” Jongin gasped, realizing the man probably wanted to know his more general location. “Yukgye-ri.” He replied.

 

The man frowned again, eyes blinking once more. His arms lowered slightly as he looked Jongin over.

 

“And where is that?” The man asked, voice softer once more.

 

“Well, Imsil is the closest city.” Jongin supplied. The man shook his head at the information as if not understanding, his arms lowering a little bit more. His frown deepened as the confusion grew.

 

“Imsil?” He mumbled.

 

“Yeah, um. We’re in Jeolla. Gwangju is the closest big city, I guess. But that’s like 3 hours away by train and bus so it’s not really close.” Jongin started explaining, fingers squeezing the first aid kit in his hands so hard his knuckles were turning white. “Not that Imsil is that close either. It’s like an hour and a half away by bus that too, but grandfather Tam lets me borrow his car if I ask him nicely so I guess I could do that for you if-... are you okay?” Jongin took a step forward, eyes widening as the man in front of him suddenly swayed dangerously, eyes rolling in his head.

 

A moment later the man’s legs gave out under him and Jongin dove forwards, grabbing hold of his arms to help him keep upright. The next second he felt a strong hand grab his right wrist, another pushing him backwards by his shoulder. The world flipped and his chest hit the wall he had just been backed up against, almost knocking the wind out of him. A tearing pain shot through his shoulder as his right arm was twisted up toward his head and pressed against his back.

 

Jongin let out a cry as he was once again slammed against the wall, his forehead knocking painfully against the white plaster this time. Panic washed over him like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.

 

“Fuck I-” The man behind him suddenly gasped and the next second Jongin was released. “Fuck I’m, I’m so sorry!” The man’s hand touched his shoulder as Jongin turned around to face him and Jongin flinched away at the contact, expecting to be pushed into the wall once more.

 

“Sorry! Sorry I- I don’t know what happened.” The man explained, sounding as confused as Jongin felt over the whole turn of events. His right eye was wide, thick eyebrows high as he looked down at his hands for some kind of explanation. Jongin did the same, trying to get to grips with what had happened in the last few seconds. Had the man really managed to overpower him in less than a second only to let him go the next? What kind of attack was that? Was it even an attack? Had it been defence?

 

“Why, why did you...?” Jongin asked hesitantly, making sure to keep space between himself and the man.

 

“I don’t know. I just...it just happened and I don’t know how-” The man explained in a worried tone, his one working eye flickering between Jongin and his hands. Jongin nodded slowly, doubtfully, rubbing his shoulder to get some of the lingering pain out of it.

 

“I apologize.” The man said, sounding sincere. He bowed once, deeply and quickly, and when he righted himself Jongin saw him sway once more, the hasty movement having been too much for his head.  Slowly he started tipping to the side, eyes rolling.

 

Jongin hesitated to help this time, opting to just give the man a quick push backwards toward the couch and letting gravity do the rest. He didn’t want to risk another round of whatever it was the man had done. The man toppled over, eyes almost completely white for a moment before he blinked and seemed to return to reality.

 

“Are you okay?” Jongin asked, taking a careful step toward the couch but still keeping his distance. The man nodded, grabbing at his head as he grimaced and righted himself once more.

 

As he pulled his hand away the palm was stained red with blood from his split eyebrow. The man blinked, seeming to process what he was seeing, before looking up at Jongin with even wider eyes than before. His hand returned to the cut, pressing against it to stop the bleeding.

 

“I’ll call the doctor.” Jongin said quickly, pointing towards the kitchen.

 

“No!” The man spoke, hand held out as if to stop Jongin from moving. Jongin looked back at him in confusion and saw the same confusion reflected in the man’s eyes. “No, no doctors. It’s-...I’m not...No doctors.” He tried to explain, voice soft but determined. Jongin nodded, not daring to go against the man’s wishes.

 

“Should... Can I help you with your head at least?” Jongin asked carefully, gesturing towards the first aid kit which lay dropped by the wall. The man frowned, looking down at the green bag as if seeing it for the first time, before blinking and giving a careful nod.

 

“You won’t-?” Jongin asked apprehensively as he bent down for the small bag, eyes flickering towards the man’s hands. The man mimicked the movement before shaking his head and slowly sliding the hands underneath his thighs as if to trap them.

 

It still took Jongin a moment to dare to get close to the man, but once he had pulled out the first wet wipe and was slowly moving to wipe away the blood crusting on the man’s face he could see fear in the man’s eyes as well. With a quick inhale Jongin made contact with the man’s skin, half expecting to be grabbed again. But the man stayed still as Jongin worked to wipe the crusted blood off his face.

 

Slowly, he did his best to patch the man up. He wasn’t a doctor and didn’t really know what he was doing, but he had seen people do this on dramas on tv. Once the blood was wiped away the man looked slightly more human. His cheeks were surprisingly round for someone who could overpower a man almost a head taller than himself in a matter of seconds.

 

The gash in his thick eyebrows was filled with stones and Jongin carefully dug them all out, surprised that the man didn’t flinch even once. His shoulders were tense though, and as Jongin dabbed disinfectant to a smaller cut by the corner of his lips he could feel how tightly the man was clenching his jaw.

 

As he reached to try and tape the cut in the man’s eyebrow shut the man shifted and Jongin immediately flinched back, ready to swat the man’s hands away if needed.

 

“Sorry.” The man spoke softly, looking guilty over Jongin’s reaction. “I didn’t mean to.” He looked down at his lap, seeing the man had pulled his hands free and Jongin could see they too were full of cuts. Several of his knuckles were split and they were covered in blood, some of it old and brown and other relatively new and deep red.

 

Jongin carefully reached for a wet wipe but hesitated when it came time to touch the man’s hand and wipe them clean. The man seemed to get the hint and slowly he reached out for the wet wipe himself with one hand, the other pressed against his chest as if protecting it, or protecting them from it. It was hard to tell. Jongin let him take the wet wipe and watched as the man carefully cleaned the hands, looking as weary of them as Jongin felt.

 

“Why were you in my cabbage field?” Jongin asked, still crouched down in front of the man. He didn’t look like a had gotten lost after a party last night. And the injuries, they didn’t make sense. There weren’t any gangs or anything of the sort in the area. Maybe some teenagers getting into trouble in Imsil but judging from how the man had been able to overpower Jongin in seconds it hardly made sense for him to have been beaten up by a bunch of high schoolers.

 

“I don’t know.” The man replied, licking his lips as he roughly wiped the blood off of his hands. “I can’t remember.” He added, movements slowing.

 

“You can’t remember.” Jongin asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

 

“I can’t remember.” The man echoed, hands stopping completely. His right eye suddenly widened, breathing growing shallower. “I- I can’t remember.”

 

“You don’t remember how you got beat up?” Jongin asked, worried at the harsh reaction.

 

“Nothing.” The man said, growing pale. “I can’t- there is- I don’t know-” He dropped the bloodied wet wipe to grab at his head, meeting Jongin’s eyes full on for a split second. In them Jongin saw nothing but fear and confusion. “I can’t remember anything.” The man gasped, out of breath. Jongin felt his own eyes widen, realizing what the man was talking about.

 

“Nothing?” He asked. “Nothing at all?”

The man nodded, eyes squeezed shut in though. Suddenly he violently smacked his right hand against his temple, almost as if trying to smack the memories back into his head. Jongin jumped, reaching out to stop him but not daring to grab him. The man repeated the movement.

 

“Stop!” Jongin called and the man froze, looking up at Jongin with lost eyes. “I- I think you should lie down?” Jongin spoke, the statement coming out as a question. Anything to stop the man from hurting himself more than he already had.

 

“I should?” The man asked. Jongin nodded, trying to remember anything about memory loss. In the dramas they always went to the doctor but the man had already made it clear he didn’t want to go there so that was out of the question. But the amnesiac characters also rested a lot, so the man probably should too.

 

“Yes. I think you need rest.” Jongin said, sounding anything but certain. The man still nodded, slowly moving as if to lie down on the couch. Jongin let him, feeling his stomach twist with nerves. Oh why had he even brought the man in here? This was the stupidest idea he had ever had. Now he had not only a trespasser on his hands, but a trespasser with amnesia who had attacked him. He needed help and he needed it badly.

 

“Do you think I’ll remember after I’ve slept?” The man asked in a quiet voice and Jongin looked down at him. The man was staring blindly forwards, breaths shuddering. Jongin nodded, giving out a small sound of confirmation even though he had no idea if that was how things worked. The man nodded as well, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

 

Two minutes later he was fast asleep and Jongin sprinted into the kitchen to call Doctor Nam.

 

 

 


	2. Friendly Strangers

The trespasser was still staying with him two days later. Which was probably another stupid idea, but Jongin didn’t know what else to do with him. The man had no memory, and from the looks of it, no one who was looking for him. At least not in the area. Jongin had kept his eyes and ears open but hadn’t heard of any missing person reports. And in Yukgye-ri word travelled fast.

 

For that very same reason he hadn’t told Doctor Nam about the man, yet another stupid idea. But as he had stood there, reciever in hand and the low tones indicating the call had gone through in his ear, Jongin hadn’t been able to shake the man’s plea from his head. The man knew nothing, but he knew he didn’t want any doctors. So there was probably a very good reason for that.

 

Parts of him had said that reason could be because the man was dangerous, maybe a member of the maffia or something, and that meant no doctors. But another part of him reminded himself that although the man had overpowered him he had also let him go, and looked terrified, and allowed Jongin to clean his wounds.

 

Besides, he knew if Doctor Nam knew, there would only be a matter of time before Officer Park knew, and by then the entire village would be by his door, asking questions, wanting to meet the man, telling Jongin what to do, what he had done wrong. Jongin’s hands had started shaking at the very thought, his breathing growing shallow again and he had almost hung up when Doctor Nam’s voice was heard through the receiver.

 

Stuttering, Jongin had made up some story about how he had seen someone getting amnesia on a tv drama before asking what could be done about it, because he didn’t understand the explanation given in the drama. It hadn’t been the first time Jongin had called the village doctor about something like that so Doctor Nam kindly answered his questions before making sure Jongin wasn’t the one who had hurt his head and needed help. Jongin had told him no, wished him a good day and rushed back to the man on the couch to make sure he hadn’t disappeared again.

 

Now, two days later, the amnesia still hadn’t disappeared despite Doctor Nam telling him long lasting retrograde amnesia was much rarer than the tv dramas made them out to be, and that in most cases it would pass with some rest. They had managed to make out some things about the man after going through his belongings yesterday though.

 

In the contents of his bag they had found a busted laptop, bent as if dropped or smashed against something, some pens and notebooks, a keycard and a wallet with an ID, both of them belonging to a Han Kangwoo, and a stack of 1 million wons. Jongin hadn’t known what to make of any of it.

 

One thing had become clear though, after calling the man Kangwoo once the man had insisted that it was wrong and that his name was Kyungsoo. This was despite the picture on both the keycard and the ID looking like the man, albeit slightly younger and less harsh. The man, Kyungsoo, had argued that he knew his name was Kyungsoo, that Kangwoo was wrong, but when asked if he remembered anything else he couldn’t reply.

 

Jongin hadn’t pushed him on the subject, seeing the doubt and confusion growing with each second as the man stared down at the small ID telling them his supposed name and age, both which he said he could feel was wrong but unlike the name he couldn’t recall his age. Jongin had let it go, finding it easier to just comply, and from then on the man had been ‘Kyungsoo’.

 

He should probably have been more cautious of Kyungsoo than he was, considering everything he had found out about Kyungsoo so far pointed to him not being someone you wanted in your house. A fake ID, more money than Jongin had ever seen in cash, and the ability to overpower him in the blink of an eye. But despite all of this, Kyungsoo hadn’t treated him with anything except careful kindness, excluding the very first attack but Jongin put that down to panic. He too had acted out when panicked. After all, if Kyungsoo had wanted to beat him up and steal everything he owned he already could have. And the whole amnesia story seemed too far fetched for scamming a simple cabbage farmer.

 

The early morning sun was beating down on him, tanning his already brown skin further. Jongin was busy watering his field, having spent some extra time to make sure the plants Kyungsoo had kicked up two mornings ago were doing alright after being replanted. The majority of them were still okay, having recovered nicely after some care and extra water. Overall his field was doing well, Jongin’s many years of experience and deep knowledge ensuring the first harvest of the season, due in about two weeks time, would be plentiful.

 

“How are you doing?” Jongin asked, bending down to take a look at a plant that was smaller than the rest. “Not enough leg room?” He remarked after not finding any disease on the light green leaves. Carefully, he lifted the leaves of the plants next to it, judging the distance between them and calculating if it needed and would be helped by a relocation. “Just shy I see.” He said after deciding no, it should stay. He gave the leaves a soft caress, brushing away some dirt and stood up, making sure to thoroughly soak the dirt around the small cabbage.

 

Slowly he made his way through his field, making sure that all of his cabbage babies were doing okay. Sometimes, when someone outside of the community saw him work, they would say he was inefficient, but Jongin knew what his plants needed, and that was love and care. ’If you sow with love, your cabbage with be sweet and your kimchi healthy’ he had always been told. And so it had been, year after year.

 

Just as he had passed the midpoint in watering the field, the door leading into the old kitchen flew open, Kyungsoo bursting out of it with a wild look in his eyes. Jongin jumped, dropping the hose and managing to spray both his face, chest and crotch before he had it safely in his hands again. With the handle held in two hands he turned towards the house, looking for Kyungsoo. The man was bracing himself against the side of the house, white shirt wet with sweat as if he had just ran a marathon.

  
“You okay?” Jongin asked cautiously. He and Kyungsoo hadn’t really interacted much despite having stayed under the same roof for two days, the man keeping to himself for the most part. He seemed like a private person, much like Jongin, but if Jongin had been looking like Kyungsoo did right now he would have wanted someone to ask how he was doing.

 

“Kyungsoo?” He tried again, taking a few slow steps forward so to not scare the other man. He had noticed that Kyungsoo was easily spooked, even when he appeared calm, and from the shuddering breaths Jongin could hear coming from him now he was anything but calm.

 

“You okay?” He put down the hose and moved closer, careful with his movements so to not trigger another attack of any sort. Kyungsoo didn’t acknowledge him and Jongin could see that despite having fisted his hands so hard the knuckles were white Kyungsoo’s hands still trembled.

 

“Hey, hey are you okay?” Jongin tried a little louder and Kyungsoo startled, turning around quickly and for a moment Jongin feared he would attack him. But then the wild look in his eyes bled away and all Jongin could see was confusion.

 

“Sorry.” Kyungsoo immediately apologized, bowing slightly before pushing his short bangs, wet with sweat, away from his forehead. He looked even more bruised now than when Jongin had first seen him, his left eye swollen shut and a deep purple bruise stretching across his nose, cheekbone and brow bone. His split lip was swollen and his pale knuckles were yellow and green with healing bruises. But instead of making him look brutish, Jongin only saw someone who was lost.

 

“Sorry.” Kyungsoo repeated. “I’m...I’m okay I-” His voice was shaky and his hands were still trembling, fingers scratching at the scabs on his knuckles.

 

“You sure?” Jongin asked, taking another step forward and slowly reaching out towards Kyungsoo. The other regarded him for a long moment before nodding, indicating that it was okay, and Jongin gently placed a hand on Kyungsoo’s bicep in a comforting gesture. It was tense under his hands, firm, and the skin was cold and clammy. Jongin was suddenly worried about the other catching a cold in the chilly morning air if he stayed outside much longer.

 

“Yeah, just...bad dream.” Kyungsoo explained quietly, clearing his throat awkwardly and shaking his head as if to shake the feeling off of him. Jongin nodded, knowing it wasn’t his place to ask more. They weren’t close.

  
“What time is it?” Kyungsoo asked, not meeting his gaze and instead looking out over the fields.

 

“Um, maybe six thirty.” Jongin said, quickly letting go of Kyungsoo’s arm and moving to pull at his ear. He wanted to get Kyungsoo inside again so he wouldn’t get sick, Doctor Nam had said stuff like that could hinder recovery, but he didn’t feel comfortable saying so to Kyungsoo. “It’s still cold outside.” He said instead.

 

Kyungsoo blinked as if just realizing that yes, he was outside in only a T-shirt and shorts in the chilly morning air. Quietly, he agreed, pulling at the wet fabric of his shirt and looking back toward the house.

 

“If you want you can take a shower? I’ll get you some clean clothes and you can go back to sleep?” Jongin suggested, stumbling slightly over his words. Kyungsoo drew another shuddering breath, still seeming a little shaken up by the nightmare, and nodded. Jongin nodded in return and gestured towards the still open door leading into the old kitchen.

 

Together they made their way inside and Jongin showed him the bathroom, where the towels were kept, how to work the shower, and where he would put the sweaty clothes. Kyungsoo nodded mechanically through it all, the same closed off look back in his eyes as Jongin had grown used to seeing.

 

Just as he was about to go back to his cabbage field Kyungsoo stopped him with a soft touch to his arm, barely there.

  
“Can I-...Do you need help with the field?” Kyungsoo asked, not fully facing Jongin.

 

Jongin had half a mind to tell him no, because he really didn’t need help, but then Kyungsoo met his eyes for a split second and Jongin could see just how lost he was. It wasn’t a matter of helping, it was a matter of having something to do, of not being alone, and Jongin’s chest tightened at that.

 

“Sure.” He said instead. “Just come out when you’re done.” He nodded and Kyungsoo replied with a nod of his own before closing the door between the two of them. Jongin lingered for a moment longer, hand resting on the door, before heading to his bedroom to change out of his own wet clothes and to get some new clothes for Kyungsoo.

 

After having quickly changed he tried to find something that would fit Kyungsoo. The other man was quite a bit smaller than him, and a lot of his working pants were already a little oversized so he would stay warm all morning. Finally he found a pair of sunshine yellow ones in the very back and dragged out a pair of underwear and a long sleeved shirt as well.

 

He didn’t think Kyungsoo would be too much of a fan of the yellow, looking more like one of those people who dressed exclusively in black, but it was either that, red, or purple with green stripes. Jongin frowned, looking at his collection of work clothes. Why did they even make pants those colours? And more importantly, why had he bought them? He pulled out the red pair, holding them out in the sunshine. Actually, they weren’t that bad, not bad at all. They were just not very...Kyungsoo.

 

When he thought of Kyungsoo he thought of the city, of business men in their grey suits and  fashionable idols in brands he couldn’t pronounce. Kyungsoo probably belonged to the first category, but probably a little cooler. He seemed like the type to have a leather jacket and a motorcycle. He probably had some high paying job in one of the skyscrapers. But then how had he ended up here? And with that much money in cash, and a fake ID along with a busted computer. Jongin couldn’t make sense of it.

 

Maybe he worked for the government? Jongin’s eyes widened at the thought. Or maybe he was one of those fashionable idols who had just wanted to get off the grid for a while and had somehow gotten into an accident. Maybe some anti-fans had attacked him and that’s how he had gotten his black eye and bruises. Oh! He had too look that up. He would watch the news tonight and see if there were any reports of celebrities going missing.

 

Pushing down the voice telling him that wasn’t realistic, Jongin excitedly stuffed the red pants back into his wardrobe and grabbed the clothes he had picked out for Kyungsoo. His mind was full of images of Kyungsoo singing and dancing to the songs he heard on TV sometimes. What if he was really superfamous? Like IU famous? Even Jongin knew who she was and he didn’t know anyone. Then maybe Jongin too would get famous for saving him.

 

He felt himself smile before realizing that that would mean reporters coming to talk to him. A lot of reporters. A lot a lot of reporters. They would probably trample his cabbage field, and ask him lots of questions, and expect him to be able to answer them all. His felt his smile drop as he dropped the clothes next to Kyungsoo’s futon in his grandmother’s old bedroom. The fabric was wet, also from sweat, and with a huff Jongin picked it up to let it dry and air out outside. Hopefully Kyungsoo wasn’t famous so he wouldn’t have to deal with that. Now he would have to watch the news to make sure that wasn’t the case.

 

As he was struggling to hang up the heavy mattress Kyungsoo walked out into the garden, hair still wet and a frown on his face as he looked down at his pants. Jongin stilled, feeling a laugh bubble up in his chest from how ridiculous Kyungsoo looked. The sleeves of his shirt were too long, hanging over his hands, and for some reason he had tucked the shirt into the bright yellow work pants. The pants were pulled high over his waist but still managed to gather up at the feet. All in all he looked like a mix between an old man and a ten year old boy wearing his dad’s clothes.

 

Kyungsoo looked up at him, his thick eyebrows furrowed close, and blinked once. Jongin choked back a laugh.

 

“Do you have anything more yellow?” Kyungsoo asked in a deadpan voice and Jongin lost it, bursting out in a loud laugh before quickly clasping a hand over his mouth. Kyungsoo’s unphased look slowly melted away to a shy smile, nose scrunching ever so slightly as he let out a small laugh.

 

“Sorry. It was either yellow or purple with green stripes.” Jongin apologized before letting out another laugh. Kyungsoo’s laughter grew into deep chuckles while he shook his head as if to say it was okay. As he calmed down he pulled the shirt out of his pants and rolled up the sleeves and legs. Aside from the intense sunshine yellow, he basically looked normal again when he was finished.

 

“Well, purple is my favourite colour.” Kyungsoo remarked quietly, shaking some water out of his still wet hair with his hand.

 

“Really?” Jongin asked excitedly. Was the amnesia disappearing? Was Kyungsoo remembering more about himself? He certainly looked much better after his shower, and seemed more at ease if the joking was anything to go by.

 

“Could be.” Kyungsoo said with a shrug. “I don’t remember.” He let out another laugh as if this too had been a joke but Jongin could hear the underlying frustration. He still offered up a smile of his own in return.

 

“Mine is red in the fall, but right now it’s bright orange, or green.” Jongin said. Kyungsoo gave him a strange look in reply before letting out a confused laugh.

 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

 

“Well, it changes with the season. Or my mood. Or whenever I see something really pretty.” Jongin explained, feeling a blush rise on his cheeks. Gods this was probably really stupid. “You know like when you see a really nice flower or like a bumble bee, or when the sunset is especially nice and the entire sky is pink, or when you see the dried chillis at the market in the fall and they are really red or-” He broke off, realizing he was rambling and feeling the blush burn on his face. “I guess, what I wanted to say was that your favourite colour can change. It’s not like you can’t just choose a new one.” He forced out, stumbling over his words, and looked up at Kyungsoo hesitantly. His hand found its way up to his ear, pulling and scratching at it as he waited for a reply.

 

“I guess so.” Was the only reply he got but the smile still playing on Kyungsoo’s lips told him more than the words could. Jongin felt his own lips stretch into a bright smile and quickly turned around to try and throw the mattress over the clothesline so he wouldn’t start giggling. He managed it on the second try but still took a moment to collect himself before turning back to Kyungsoo. It had been a long time since he last had company out on the field, or company at all in the house, and he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

 

“You can continue to water the plants. I left off at the fifth row so just, like, spray them and that’s it?” Jongin finished weakly, gesturing towards the cabbage field and the hose still laying forgotten a few meters away from it.

 

“Is that a question?” Kyungsoo remarked and Jongin felt the blush burn on his cheeks again. He shook his head and took a deep breath to calm himself. He gestured for Kyungsoo to follow and grabbed the hose before positioning himself at the start of the sixth row. Kyungsoo followed, looking on attentively.

 

“So you want to make sure they all get enough water but don’t overdo it. It might wash the dirt away.” He instructed quietly, pressing down on the handle and spraying the first five cabbage in the row. Kyungsoo looked on, taking a step closer and Jongin was suddenly very aware of how his arms were looking. Did his left one usually hang by his side that uselessly? He grabbed the hose with that one too, but that just felt unnatural. But he couldn’t let go of the hose now, Kyungsoo would notice.

 

“Give it a try!” He rushed out, thrusting the hose over towards Kyungsoo who flinched at the sudden movement. Carefully, as if afraid of what would happen, Kyungsoo reached out and grabbed the hose. Once it was safely in his hands the hesitation disappeared and Kyungsoo pressed down on the handle and held it over one of the plants.

 

“Like this?” He asked, taking a step over to the next one. Jongin grimaced, reaching out and closing his hand over Kyungsoo’s before he could reflect on whether it was a good idea or not. Kyungsoo flinched again but quickly relaxed as Jongin started moving the hose side to side, ensuring a gentle spray over the plants.

 

“Like this.” He said, voice shaking a little. Kyungsoo nodded, starting to move his hand on his own. Jongin didn’t let go. “You want to make sure the soil is soaked through or else the plant might dry out. But don’t water to much and wash the dirt away, we don’t want to expose any roots. But now that the plants are older that isn’t as important.” He instructed and Kyungsoo nodded, still moving the hose.

 

“Like that.” Jongin said once the soil was wet enough. He bent down, pulling Kyungsoo down with him, and touched the dirt. Kyungsoo mimicked his movement. “It’s supposed to feel like this. Like the water has properly soaked through and isn’t just in the top layer so even the deep roots can drink.” He explained, looking over at Kyungsoo. The man nodded, squeezing a handful of dirt.

 

“Got it.” Kyungsoo replied curtly, standing up and pulling his hand out of Jongin’s grasp. Jongin stood up as well, clearing his throat. Kyungsoo had already started watering, carefully moving the hose in the same way Jongin had showed him and ever so often bending down to feel the soil.

 

Jongin watched him for a minute, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He had been taking care of the field on his own since he was 19, two years before his grandmother’s passing. At first he had been lonely out here on his own but quickly working alone had became normal, especially after her death three years ago. But now that he saw Kyungsoo work he was hit with that same feeling of loneliness.

 

The field was large, hard to take care of on his own, and often he couldn’t make full use of it. He had always felt guilty over that. He was the only one left in the family business and all of it rested on his shoulders. He loved it, more than anything, the cabbage farming and kimchi making, but in moment like these, when he was reminded of how alone he was in all of it, he couldn’t help but feel scared.

 

Scared that what he was doing wasn’t enough. That he wasn’t good enough at what he was doing. That the kimchi his grandmother had been making had been much better. That the dreams his parents had had about moving to the city would have been much better for him. That he was doing all of this wrong. That he was supposed to do something else, something more important, something more fitting for someone his age.

 

But Kyungsoo didn’t seemed bothered in the slightest by Jongin living alone, here, in the middle of nowhere. As Jongin watched him work now he didn’t seem to mind working the field either, seemed almost comforted by it in that way Jongin always felt. Jongin knew that Kyungsoo’s comfort was definitely of a different kind than his own, but it still made him feel slightly better about his situation.

 

He moved over to the first row, watching Kyungsoo bend down and feel the soil as if he had done nothing but that in his life. Maybe he was a farmer from a nearby village? But then Jongin would have heard about him going missing. He would have to investigate more.

 

He started weeding, making sure to carefully survey every plant to ensure they were doing okay. The sun had fully risen by now, heating up the air around them and the smell of dew and wet dirt in the air further eased his anxious heart.

 

They worked in silence, Jongin every so often quietly whispering words of encouragement to the smaller plants. Kyungsoo watered the field, testing the soil before moving on every time and taking just as much care as Jongin would have done. Once he was done Jongin showed him how to weed, what he wanted to look for in the plants to make sure they weren’t diseased.

 

They made quick work and about an hour before lunch they were done.

 

Kyungsoo joined him the next day too, and the day after that, and without really meaning to Jongin started to expect Kyungsoo to help him in the mornings. The other would either be awake or waking up by the time Jongin started his day and the manual labour seemed to indeed have the same calming effect on Kyungsoo as it had on Jongin. It also gave Jongin a perfect opportunity to observe Kyungsoo in an inconspicuous way.

 

Most mornings whenever Jongin first saw Kyungsoo he would often be shaky and pale, looking like he had both ran a marathon and seen a ghost, or like he had ran a ghost marathon. Jongin hadn’t yet dared ask about what could only be nightmares plaguing his nights, figuring that Kyungsoo probably didn’t want to talk about his dreams if they were that bad. So he just let him water the plants and help with fertilization and weeding and left it at that.

 

He learnt some things about Kyungsoo as time passed though. While the man was mostly quiet he had a good sense of humor and would often laugh at Jongin’s albeit bad puns and jokes. He was methodical and precise and when weeding would carefully oversee every plant to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He was strong too. Jongin had seen him carry two 25kg bags of fertilizer like they were nothing. Jongin had been hauling those bags around since before his teen years and he still prefered carrying one at the time. Maybe Kyungsoo had just been trying to impress him, but Jongin had only seen him carry the bags by happenstance so he would assume not.

 

He couldn’t help but think that maybe this was all connected to who Kyungsoo had been before the amnesia. Maybe he had been some sort of athlete considering how strong he was and how much of a perfectionist he was. Jongin could almost see him out on the field, playing some kind of western sport. Like that rugby sport he had seen on TV once. Kyungsoo looked like those players. Compact and determined. Yeah, that was probably it.

 

Jongin would have to try out his newest theory by searching through famous rugby players on the library computers. But that would have to wait until after the first harvest. It was almost time and if he didn’t hurry up and buy the ingredients for the kimchi soon, his grandmother would surely resurrect from the grave to haunt him until he got his act together.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want updates on how the next chapter is coming along you can check out my twitter @SooSooDyo <3
> 
> If you liked the fic, please leave a kudos or a comment, I really appreciate every single one of them <3


	3. Safe to Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on the story will be kicking off, so expect more plot and feelings :3  
> Also! Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and kind comments! I read and appreciate all of them <3

Jongin had spent most of his morning cleaning out the large wooden tub he used for his kimchi making. His grandfather’s father had made it when he had been in his fifties and ever since then the family had used it to mix the kimchi batter and coat the cabbage heads in. It was shallow, maybe two hands deep, but wide, diameter as long as Jongin was tall. It was almost too big for the amount of kimchi Jongin could handle making on his own but it felt wrong not to use it. It was a part of their family tradition. 

Slowly, he propped the tub up on its side, holding on to it with strong hands, and started rolling it around the house. He had been cleaning it by the shed on the backside outside his grandmother’s old bedroom and had been careful not to make too much noise. Kyungsoo was still sleeping, the first time he had slept in this long since his arrival some two weeks ago, and Jongin had decided that the other needed it. 

He would wake him up soon though. This morning he would head into town to pick up the ingredients he needed for the kimchi, and then tomorrow it would be time to put the cabbage heads in the salt brine, and the day after tomorrow was kimchi making the day. Kyungsoo had seemed excited about the process when Jongin had told him about it last night and Jongin had promised he could come along, and possibly help. Kyungsoo had probably never made kimchi before, and if he had it wouldn’t have been on this scale. It was understandable that he was excited. And since the amnesia had yet to get better it didn’t matter if he had done it before, it would be his first time remembering it. 

With some difficulty he managed to get the tub and himself through the front door and quickly rolled it into the living room. He leaned it against the wall, holding up a warning finger at it as he slowly backed away. In the past it had more than once decided to roll away the moment he turned his back on it, and Jongin were not having any of it today. Not when Kyungsoo was sleeping. 

“I’m watching.” He warned the tub before slowly turning around, quickly throwing a glance over his shoulders as if to catch the tub in the act. It remained stationary. He grabbed the tarpaulin he had thrown aside on the couch earlier that morning and turned back to the tub, covering it to ensure it stayed clean and sanitary for later use. He would still need to give it a quick scrub down before putting anything edible in it but this still helped keep the process quick. 

With the tub carefully covered and a small stack of books on either side making sure it didn’t roll away on him, Jongin turned toward the bedrooms, intending to wake Kyungsoo up. He made his way over to the corridor leading down to the bedrooms and bathroom but as he peeked his head around the corner he noticed the door leading to his grandmother’s bedroom was open. 

He frowned, looking over at the bathroom to see if Kyungsoo was in there, but that door was open too, showing an empty bathroom inside. He turned around, feeling his confusion grow. Surely he would have noticed if Kyungsoo had walked past him while he was fiddling with the tub. And surely Kyungsoo would have said good morning? Maybe they had just missed each other? 

The sound of porcelain hitting porcelain came from the kitchen and Jongin turned around, looking over towards the open kitchen door. So Kyungsoo was awake. He took a step towards the sound, wanting to tell the other about his plans for the day, when a knock on his door interrupted him. He turned his head towards the front door, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. He rarely had visitors outside of Mrs. Choi, who sometimes dropped off some stew or banchans when she deemed Jongin too skinny. But she would always call him beforehand, knowing how little he liked unannounced visitors. Other than that, the only visitors he could remember were people who had visited his grandmother when she had still been alive. 

The noise from the kitchen was forgotten as Jongin inched his way over to the door. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he turned the handle, not wanting to face whoever was on the other side. He didn’t want to talk to any strangers. He didn’t want to have to be polite, to answer questions or make small talk. What if it was someone who had gotten lost and needed directions? Jongin only knew how to get back to the main road and were absolutely useless when it came to directions. Or worse still, a tourist wanting to know more about the town. 

The door swung open and Mr. Kang’s face appeared before him, smiling broadly and holding six large white radishes in his arms. Jongin felt his eyes widen. 

“Good morning neighbour.” Mr. Kang said happily, holding out the radishes for Jongin to take. Jongin blanked, allowing the radishes to be pressed into his chest. The shock of seeing his old neighbour made him fumble, almost dropping the radishes before ending up with them awkwardly clutched against his chest. Mr. Kang’s oldest daughter handled the economics of Jongin’s small family business and several of the other businesses in the village, and the only other time he had gotten a visit from the Kangs was when Jongin had forgotten to hand over some papers for the accounting. Was anything wrong? But surely they would have called first just like they had last time if that was the case. 

“I hope all is well with you?” Mr. Kang asked, clapping his bicep with a large, roughened hand. Jongin jumped at the contact, almost dropping one of the radishes in his arms. 

Before Jongin could answer his question Mr. Kang continued. 

“It’s beautiful weather we’ve had this spring, isn’t it? Good for the yield, right boy? It’s time for your first harvest now here soon boy. I can remember it like yesterday when you were just a little spud helping Grandmother Kim out on those fields.” He sighed as if hit by sudden nostalgia. “Speaking of help, who is that you have had helping you these past few weeks?” Mr. Kang asked, one word barely having left his lips before the next came. He was none too subtly trying to look into the house behind Jongin and Jongin shifted, not knowing whether he should step aside and let Mr. Kang inside. But that would mean even more questions and Jongin was already starting to feel overwhelmed. 

“Well- er...” Jongin cleared his throat, trying to think of any explanation at all for Kyungsoo’s appearance. He hadn’t really thought about what he would say when people asked about the other. He couldn’t exactly tell them he found Kyungsoo, or could he? Probably not. But then what was he supposed to say? Neither of them knew anything about who Kyungsoo was and where he came from. 

He still hadn’t heard about any missing person from anywhere. Not on tv. Not through gossip. Not through the Sunday papers. By now Kyungsoo’s family should have noticed he was missing. And his job too. They should be busy trying to find him. If he was from the area, Jongin would have known despite his less than social ways. And if he wasn’t from the area...well that just didn’t make sense. How had he ended up in Jongin’s field if he wasn’t from the area? 

“Well boy?” Mr. Kang interrupted his musings. “Is he a friend of yours?” 

“Yes?” Jongin replied. Technically it wasn’t a lie. 

“Oh? Where from?” Mr. Kang asked and Jongin drew another blank. 

“From...Seoul?” He tried, eyebrows slowly rising as he waited for the reaction. Mr. Kang made a noise and Jongin felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he couldn’t figure out if it was a good noise or not. 

“From the city? Is he a friend of your parents?” Mr. Kang asked and the minimal relief Jongin felt over not being caught in a lie was replaced with anxiety as he tried to figure out what to reply to that. In his panic he just nodded, letting Mr. Kang go along with whatever idea he had. 

“Is it his first time here?” The other man asked and Jongin nodded again, waiting for Mr. Kang to go on. Mr Kang remained quiet and Jongin realized he was waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Uh, yeah he... he needed a break from the city?” He supplied. Was that even a real reason? Could people do that? Take a break from a city? He hoped so. He really really hoped so. 

Mr. Kang nodded knowingly. 

“Aish.” He inhaled sharply through his teeth. “It’s like I’ve always told you boy. Life in the city does you no good. All it gives you is stress, stress and more stress. People there have no idea what real labour is! I’m glad you’re taking him in to show him what life is really about.” Once again that rough hand clapped Jongin’s bicep. “There’s nothing as satisfying as farming now is it boy? Those city folks don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Jongin gave him a weak smile and a nod, hoping that Mr. Kang were done with his questions and would just leave him be once more. 

“Tell me boy, where is he?” His neighbour demanded and Jongin felt his mouth grow dry. Nervously he looked over his shoulder, suddenly remembering he had no idea if Kyungsoo had actually been in the kitchen or not. Although it had to have been him, right? He let out a small noise, quickly looking between Mr. Kang and the empty living room behind him. 

“I- I think he’s still sleeping Mr Kang.” He said in lack of anything better to say. Mr. Kang let out a huff. 

“Still sleeping? At this hour? He should be up and help you with your fields boy. Now, let me tell you. If anyone in my household was sleeping at this hour they would get an earful-” He suddenly cut himself off, his eyes widening as he spotted something behind Jongin. “Would you look at that. Hey! Friend! Come over and greet your neighbour!” He called into the house. 

Jongin turned around, spotting Kyungsoo in the door leading to the kitchen. He had a polite smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes and as Mr. Kang waved at him he quickly made his way over to the pair of them. 

“Hello Mister.” Kyungsoo greeted politely, bowing in respect and Jongin could see Mr. Kang’s expression turn into one of self-importance. “I’m Jongin’s friend from Seoul, Kyungsoo.” He introduced himself. His voice was even and polite, but different from what Jongin was used to. 

Jongin turned to him with a shocked expression as he realized what the other had said. Had Kyungsoo overheard his and Mr. Kang’s conversation all the way from the kitchen? They hadn’t agreed on any sort of cover story beforehand, neither of them having spent a thought on how they would explain Kyungsoo’s presence. Or at least so Jongin assumed. Maybe he had been wrong. 

“Are you the boy I’ve seen helping Jongin here with his field?” Mr. Kang asked and Kyungsoo confirmed it with a quick nod and another polite smile. “You’re doing the right thing coming here boy. Seoul might give you quick rewards but there is nothing as rewarding as some good old farming let me tell you now.” Mr. Kang lectured. 

“You’re quite right Mister.” Kyungsoo replied, nodding again. Jongin couldn’t stop watching him, amazed at the Kyungsoo he was seeing right now. He was nothing like the quiet, slightly skittish Kyungsoo Jongin had gotten to know. It was almost as if he was acting, pretending to be a confident Seoul resident. Jongin would have been fooled too if he didn’t know Kyungsoo. 

“However.” Kyungsoo continued and Jongin could see that despite the polite smile there was a tenseness to his shoulders. “Jongin and I are going into town for the kimchi ingredients today and we need to get going.” Kyungsoo continued, voice still respectful but holding no room for argument. 

Mr. Kang immediately gave in, praising them for their diligent work and decision to have Kyungsoo take a break from the city. As Mr. Kang tried to shake Kyungsoo’s hand Jongin could see the other tense, expertly avoiding being touched. His polite smile had turned a little strained in the corners, but Mr. Kang still seemed fooled, taking the rejection in a stride and leaving them with a wave and a demand for some of Jongin’s kimchi once it was done. 

As Kyungsoo closed the door behind them Jongin felt relief fill him and drew his first real deep breath in the past five minutes. He could hug Kyungsoo for getting rid of Mr. Kang that quickly and probably would have if it weren’t for the radishes still clutched against his chest, or Kyungsoo’s rejection of the handshake. 

“Are you an actor?” Jongin asked instead, still amazed at how differently Kyungsoo had acted. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, eyebrows furrowed deep. 

“An actor?” Jongin repeated. “You, you were acting completely differently just now. Not that I mind! It was amazing how you managed to get him to leave. Not that I necessarily wanted him to leave. Not that I wanted him to say either! It’s just, you were acting so cooly and it reminded me of the actors in dramas and how the lead is always so cool and unbothered. And you were so well spoken too, like the actors are, and you could answer all of Mr. Kang’s questions and...” Jongin trailed off, realizing he had been rambling. “Anyhow, um, it was cool.” 

“I don’t know.” Kyungsoo answered slowly. “It just happened.” He looked away, the confident persona falling off him at once and the lost look he always wore whenever he couldn’t remember something returning to his eyes. Jongin felt his heart sink, having hoped that somehow that confident person had been an indication of the other’s memories returning. 

“You really think I could be an actor?” Kyungsoo asked, looking up at Jongin. 

“Yes, either that or an athlete.” Jongin said confidently before realizing what he was saying. A blush rose on his cheeks. 

“You think I’m an athlete?” Kyungsoo asked, an amused smile growing on his lips as he looked at Jongin. His tense shoulders relaxed ever so slightly and Jongin decided to keep going. 

“Well, you’re really strong. And something like, I dunno, judo would explain why you can like police grip people.” He elaborated, voice barely above a mumble. He finished with a small shrug and looked up at Kyungsoo who was still smiling. 

Before the other could give a reply Jongin felt the radishes shift in his arms, the few moments of distraction having caused him to loosen his grip. One of them started sliding out between his fingers and being the well put together adult he was, Jongin decided he should let go of the other radishes in order to catch the single falling one. A second later he realized no, bad idea, and the jerky movement of bringing his hands closer to his chest managed to send all six of them flying. 

He let out a cry, scrambling to grab hold of any of them and only managing to juggle one of them in mid-air. Kyungsoo’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the radish Jongin had been trying, and failing, to catch with such precision Jongin wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened before his very own eyes. He still didn’t quite believe it. 

With a gasp Jongin looked at the outstretched hand, ignoring the other five radishes as they landed on the ground. Kyungsoo looked Just as surprised as Jongin felt, eyes wide as he stared at the vegetable in his hand. His grip was so strong his fingers were making indents in the ripe flesh and there was a faint tremor running through his arm. 

The next second he let it drop to the ground, the radish bouncing against the old wooden floor with a low thud before coming to rest next to one of its brethren. 

“I don’t know.” Kyungsoo gasped, answering Jongin’s unasked question of how. His eyes were wide, an almost frightened look in them, and Jongin felt the excitement inside him be replaced by worry. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, slowly reaching out for Kyungsoo. His hand landed on Kyungsoo’s bicep, feeling the tense muscle for barely a fraction of a second before Kyungsoo flinched away, his hand grabbing Jongin’s wrist so quickly the motion was nothing more than a blur. The next moment Kyungsoo let go again, leaving red indents on his skin from how hard he had been squeezing Jongin’s wrist, and stumbled backwards. 

“Don’t touch me.” He gasped, sounding out of breath. Jongin took a step back, stumbling on one of the radishes in an effort to give Kyungsoo some space. “I don’t know-” Kyungsoo continued, wide eyes darting around the room as if searching for something. His arms were raised in front of his chest and neck as if protecting himself. He looked ready to fight, his entire body tense as if anticipating an attack at any second. The way he stood, his posture, his glare, everything about him made Jongin feel small. “I might hurt-” 

Jongin nodded, taking another step backwards and bringing his own hands close to his chest in protection. He had already tasted Kyungsoo’s strength once and he didn’t want another go. 

A long moment passed between them where neither of them said anything. Jongin could hear his own shuddering breaths as he waited for something to happen, or where that Kyungsoo’s breathing. It was hard to tell if the fearful tension in the room came from Jongin, or from the other man.

“Are you okay?” Jongin asked softly, worriedly, as the tensioned seemed to ease up ever so slightly. Kyungsoo nodded, lowering his hands with visible effort. Jongin thought he looked the opposite of okay but chose not to mention it, in case it made things worse. 

Another moment of tense silence stretched out between them, Jongin watching as Kyungsoo forced breath after breath in and out of his chest. The motion’s looked so controlled, every muscle in Kyungsoo’s body still on high alert. He didn’t like it. He wanted to help Kyungsoo calm down, but didn’t know how to go about it without touching him. But touching him right now was probably the worst option. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He asked instead. The other shook his head, hands flexing and fisting in time with his forced breaths. He didn’t look like someone who would like to eat right now but he did look like someone who needed a distraction, and nothing distracted Jongin better than food. 

“I have some baechu-boenjanggu leftovers in the fridge and the rice in the rice cooker should still be fine. Unless you want yoghurt? I usually have a yoghurt first thing in the morning.” He continued, gesturing towards the kitchen carefully. Kyungsoo nodded, stiffly turning towards the kitchen and disappearing into it. Jongin hurried after, having to double back to pick up the radishes. One of them had snapped in half during the earlier commotion and Jongin quietly apologized to it as he picked up the two parts. 

Once he got inside the kitchen Kyungsoo seemed to have calmed down slightly and was busy pressing the buttons on the rice cooker with determined fingers. Jongin silently put the broken radish on the counter before moving to store the rest of them in the small pantry in the old kitchen. 

“Can I... Can I make some musaengchae?” Kyungsoo called from the kitchen. His voice was hoarse, like he was struggling to force the words out. Jongin turned around, catching Kyungsoo looking at him from the kitchen door with that lost look in his eyes. His black eye was almost completely faded by now, only a yellowish bruise down the side of his nose and on the outside of his brow bone remained, and his split lip and eyebrow were healing nicely. Still, he looked vulnerable like this, the complete opposite of the Kyungsoo Jongin had faced in the living room just minutes ago. 

“You know how to make it?” Jongin asked, deciding not to draw attention to Kyungsoo’s vulnerability just like he didn’t draw attention to a lot of the things he noticed about Kyungsoo. 

“I think so.” Kyungsoo said, looking back into the kitchen for a short moment before meeting Jongin’s eyes again. Jongin gave him a quick thumbs up, returning to the pantry to stow away the radishes. He could mix them with any kimchi paste they might have left over once they made kimchi. 

When he returned to the kitchen Kyungsoo was fully occupied with chopping up the radish into neat matchsticks. He looked calmer now, and as he worked the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board seemed to have the same soothing effect on him as it had on Jongin’s frazzled nerves. 

By the time Jongin had heated up the soup and Kyungsoo had finished with the side dish they had quite an impressive breakfast going. They ate in comfortable silence, neither of them feeling the need to talk. Jongin liked that. He liked how Kyungsoo seemed to understand that he didn’t need to talk all the time, or that Jongin didn’t want to talk all the time. He like listening but talking had never really been a strong point of his, even when his grandmother was alive. They also used to share comfortable silences like this and he didn’t realize how much he missed them until he had Kyungsoo right here, in front of him, quietly blowing at his soup to cool it down. 

Jongin blinked, slowly scooping a mouthful of rice into his mouth as he watched Kyungsoo. His hair which had been styled up when Jongin had first seen him, was now relaxed and lying flat against his forehead. It had grown since he first came here and should probably look a little stupid since it was such a nothing haircut, but on Kyungsoo it looked nice. It made him look young and soft in a weird way. His cheeks were chubby, like they still had baby fat to them, and although he was clearly fit, his body was still curvy. In actuality, he wasn’t that much shorter than Jongin but he still seemed so much smaller. Like a teddy bear or something. 

Jongin found himself wondering what hugging Kyungsoo would feel like. If he would be as soft as he looked right now, or as hard as he looked when he had just woken up from a nightmare or after having been accidentally spooked by Jongin. It was weird, how the same features that could make him so gentle also made him look so rough. The eyebrows that reminded Jongin of the fluffy caterpillars he sometimes spotted outside could turn into dangerous frowns when Kyungsoo felt threatened. The same hands that handled the chopsticks with such gentleness the could shift a yolk without bursting it hurt like iron pokers when they had gripped Jongin’s wrist earlier. The same soft muscles that looked like they belonged in lazy clothes and warm blankets strained with power and force when Kyungsoo crouched low and raised his fists in defence. 

Everything about Kyungsoo was like an opposite of himself. An oxymoron Jongin’s high school literature teacher supplied at the back of his mind. You can be a moron Jongin thought back before stabbing at his own yolk and mixing it with his rice. He really should ask Kyungsoo about himself some more to see if he was actually the gentle man Jongin saw right now or the angry man Jongin had seen earlier. But when not even Kyungsoo knew who he was, it seemed kind of pointless do to anything of the sort. So instead Jongin asked: 

“You ready to head into town after breakfast?”

Kyungsoo looked up from where he had been shuffling food into his mouth. Apparently, the earlier outburst hadn’t really destroyed his appetite. 

“Oh, that was today.” He stated and Jongin nodded, putting down his chopsticks so he could pick up his spoon. 

“Yeah. But you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” He said with a shrug, stirring his soup more even though it was more than well mixed. 

“I’d love to come.” Kyungsoo said and when Jongin looked up the other had a bright smile on his lips. Jongin felt his stomach swirl in time with the soup in his bowl and in an effort not to blush he quickly raised the bowl to his lips and drank down gulp after gulp, only choking once. 

An hour later the two of them were turning down the small main street of Yukgye-ri. Jongin was pulling a large cart behind himself, which he would use to bring all the ingredients back home. Kyungsoo was walking next to him, observing their surroundings with an unreadable look. He was wearing some of Jongin’s borrowed clothes, because no matter how practical the yellow pants were even Jongin could understand not wanting to be seen in public with them. So instead he was sporting a pair of old jeans which were slightly too small for Jongin and a knitted sweater Jongin’s grandmother had made him in his high school years. The jeans had been too long just like the sweater’s arms but Kyungsoo had solved both problems by rolling up the hem. Under the sweater he wore the white shirt Jongin had found him in and on his feet he wore his smart city shoes. All in all, it made him look like a small grandpa and right at home in the sleepy village. 

Something twisted in Jongin’s chest at the thought. 

“Is this it?” Kyungsoo asked, voice even as he looked at the short main street. There was one clothing store, one small grocery store, three small family owned restaurants that each had their own market stands, a fishmonger, a butcher and a market where some of the farmers were selling their wares. And then there was the Choi’s cafe of course, Jongin’s favourite place in town. 

“Yes.” Jongin answered with a bright smile. It wasn’t much, but it was all he needed. He started walking down the street, nodding in greeting to the people he met. Yukgye-ri was small enough practically everyone knew everyone, or at least knew of everyone. Kyungsoo stuck close to his side, politely but reservedly answering the questions of the people coming up to greet them. 

It seemed like Mr. Kang must have worked quickly on spreading the news about Kyungsoo, not that Jongin had expected anything less, and everyone wanted to know more about the ‘city boy’. From Seoul, almost all of them emphasized as they said hello to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo seemed to take it in a stride, like he had Mr Kang’s questions, but Jongin could see the tenseness slowly setting in in his shoulders. 

As they made their way down the street the small cover story they had grew. Kyungsoo was an office worker now, working the stock market, and him and Jongin had gotten to know each other through their parents when they were younger. Once again the words seemed so confident from Kyungsoo’s lips that if Jongin hadn’t known better, he would have believed him a heartbeat. 

The sheer amount of people and questions made Jongin feel weary and shaky though, despite how well Kyungsoo seemed to answer, and judging from the way the other’s hands were slowly clenching into tighter and tighter fists Jongin wasn’t the only one. So once he spotted Mrs Choi’s café, he quickly steered them inside, happy to flee the onslaught of questions. 

“If it isn’t the village celebrity.” Mrs Choi called happily as she laid eyes on him and Jongin felt himself blush, quickly brushing the comment away. Mrs Choi was a short and stout woman in her late 50’s with laugh lines, a bright smile and kind eyes. She had been a close friend of Jongin’s grandmother before she had passed away and had taken care of Jongin like he was her own son after his parents’ death. And Jongin loved her like a mother. 

“I haven’t been able to go more than a minute without hearing about you.” She said, walking over and enveloping Jongin in a tight hug. Jongin had to bend down quite a bit for the hug to work but didn’t mind for one second. 

“Hello Aunty.” He said, smiling softly as the older lady squeezed his cheeks together before complaining about how tanned he was getting. 

“You’re going to get all wrinkly my handsome boy. Imagine what a loss that would be. The most handsome man in the village looking like my old husband before he turns 30.” She spoke and Jongin pushed he hands away with a pout, protesting that he was taking care of himself. He liked his tanned skin and he took care of it. He even had one of those moisturizers IU had advertised on TV. He had ordered it online from the library computer. 

At those words he heard a short snort behind himself and turned around, seeing Kyungsoo bite his lip and struggling to hold back a laugh. Jongin pouted some more, mostly just to see Kyungsoo give a quick smile before his face returned to the same impassive look he had had before. 

“And are you the city boy everyone has been talking about?” Mrs Choi asked, paying no mind to the short exchange between Kyungsoo and Jongin. “You’re a handsome one you too.” She said, moving forwards and raising her hands as if to give Kyungsoo’s cheeks a squeeze too. Jongin quickly moved between the two, stopping her. Kyungsoo still seemed tense and he didn’t want to accidentally trigger an attack of some sort. And oh shit what if he took on Mrs Choi who was small enough that the wind had blown her over once last year. That would end in disaster. 

“He doesn’t like being touched.” Jongin explained quickly and Mrs Choi’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh dear! I’m glad you told me.” She said, smiling softly as she looked behind Jongin at Kyungsoo. Jongin followed her eyes, seeing Kyungsoo stiffly return the smile and greet Mrs Choi with a bow. When he straightened again their eyes met for a brief moment and the look of gratitude in those dark orbs made his middle grow warm. 

“I can’t believe you’re having visitors from the city Jongin-ah.” Mrs Choi said, giving Jongin a quick sideways hug before hurrying off deeper into the café. Jongin could hear her talk as she walked away and when she came back, a pastry for each of them on a plate in her hands, she was still talking about the city as if it didn’t matter that she had been alone for half the conversation. It probably didn’t. 

They spent almost half an hour in the café with Mrs Choi before heading out again, the pastries quickly devoured between the two of them. Once back outside the excitement over Kyungsoo had died down as the work day had started in earnest. The vendors still made sure to comment on the ‘visit’ whenever Jongin and Kyungsoo stopped by their stand to collect whatever wares were needed. Some of it were spicing, like the chili flakes and the large containers of saeujeot from the fishmonger, but most of it was vegetables. Jongin had reserved fifteen kilos of carrots, ten kilos of radishes and five kilos of garlic from the Jung family vendor. Kyungsoo’s already wide eyes grew almost twice the size when Jongin loaded the bags of vegetables into the cart. When Jongin also asked for ten kilos of onion and picked out enough ginger root to fill a small plastic bag Kyungsoo quietly asked him just how much kimchi he was planning on making. 

Mrs Jung let out a deep laugh, her large belly bouncing with her chuckles, and informed Kyungsoo that Jongin made enough kimchi to last the entire village and then some. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes looked ready to fall out of his head at that information and Jongin couldn’t help but laugh. 

Once Jongin was sure he had everything he needed they started heading home, Jongin pulling the now much heavier cart with determined steps. As they turned onto the long road uphill leading to Jongin’s house Kyungsoo softly touched his shoulder, making Jongin look up from where he had been staring at the road. 

“I didn’t realize Yukgye-ri was that small.” Kyungsoo spoke, gesturing for Jongin to stop so he could take over pulling the cart. 

“Yeah. It’s quite small.” Jongin laughed, casting a look behind himself back towards the village. He could see almost the entire main street from here and the many small houses making out the tight web of side streets. In front of them to the left the road forked, leading down to Doctor Nam’s clinic, the small police station and Grandfather Tam’s house along with a few of the other farmers’ homes. That was the oldest part of the village, some of the houses there having belonged to the same family for hundreds of years. 

“I like it.” Kyungsoo said, giving Jongin a shove with his shoulder when the other still wouldn’t stop and let him pull the cart. Realizing Kyungsoo wasn’t going to give up, Jongin stopped and put down the handle he had been carrying. He groaned as he stretched out his back, hearing it pop. 

“There isn’t a whole lot to like.” Jongin said as he stepped out from inside the handle and helped Kyungsoo get in so he could start pulling the cart. 

“It’s quaint and genuine.” Kyungsoo said, huffing once as he picked up the handle before setting off with surprising speed. By now Jongin really should have learnt that Kyungsoo was a lot stronger than he looked, but it never stopped amazing him just how much power the small man packed. 

“I guess you’re right.” Jongin said with a small laugh, feeling a strange sort of pride over the fact that Kyungsoo liked his village. He looked over at Kyungsoo, noting the look of concentration on his face as he pulled and Jongin placed a steadying hand on the handle just in case. Sometimes the uneven road made the cart jump and jostle and he didn’t want Kyungsoo to hurt himself. 

“It’s very different from where I used to live...before.” Kyungsoo said, face turned to the hill in front of him and his eyes burning with determination at the challenge it provided. It was a good look on him. 

“Do you remember where you lived before?” Jongin asked, feeling his stomach twist a little at the thought. Was Kyungsoo’s memories coming back? If so would that mean that Kyungsoo wanted to go back to where he had lived before to try and regain more memories. Jongin supposed it probably would, and that it would probably be good for him. But selfishly, he quite liked having Kyungsoo around. 

“No.” Kyungsoo shook his head and Jongin tried not to feel relieved. “It’s more like a feeling. Like-...I remember the feeling of being busy and having people around me before. But I don’t remember anything else.” Kyungsoo spoke, voice strained from the effort of pulling the heavy cart. 

“Like a dream?” Jongin asked. “Like when you wake up and you know you’ve had an amazing dream because you can feel it but when you try to tell someone about it you can’t because you don’t remember anything but you just know how awesome it was but everything else is just-.” Jongin waved his fingers, mimicking leaves floating away in the wind before scrunching up his nose as he recalled the feeling. It was like trying to catch smoke with your hands. “I hate it when that happens.” 

Kyungsoo laughed next to him, a deep, hearty chuckle, and nodded. 

“I guess you could say so.” He said, fingers flexing and tightening around the handle bar of the cart. 

“Do you remember anything else though?” Jongin asked, genuinely curious. After their delicious breakfast this morning Jongin had changed his ‘hypothesis’ about who Kyungsoo had been to include him as a chef. Right now, his strongest bet was that the other was a rugby playing chef from Seoul, famous for how good he was at acting too. He was breaking the stigma around sports-actors. (Was that even a thing? Jongin would have to google that at the library as well.) But one day during rugby practise Kyungsoo had tripped and hurt his head and walked right into Jongin’s cabbage patch. Jongin’s lips quirked up at the silly idea. 

“I-” Kyungsoo’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and as he looked over at the other he could see the hands holding the handle flex and tense once more before Kyungsoo upped his pace. Jongin took a few running steps to catch up. 

“I have these dreams sometimes.” Kyungsoo continued, his voice quiet and almost inaudible over the creaking wheels of the cart. “Of people I don’t know...and they-” He cut off again, speeding up once more. Jongin almost had to jog to keep up with his pace. He knew from experience it couldn’t be comfortable pulling the cart like this. He would have reached out to stop Kyungsoo too, if he hadn’t seen the agitated set of the other’s shoulders and the way the hands were fluttering over the handle, as if looking for something to hold on to.

“They look scared.” Kyungsoo finished, pulling the cart harshly over a rock and accidentally dislodging the bag full of carrots. 

“Kyungsoo stop!” Jongin called, turning back around and running after the bag slowly tumbling down the hill. It ended up in the ditch at the side of the road and Jongin took the least graceful leap known to mankind as he jumped over the ditch before crouching down to try and fish out the burlap sack at the bottom of the ditch. In the end he had to step into the small stream running at the bottom of the ditch and get his trainers wet to be able to pull the heavy fabric out. It was even heavier with the wet fabric. He heaved it up onto the road with a huff and climbed up after. He shot Kyungsoo a look as he pulled the sack up into his arms, just to make sure the other knew he had everything under control. 

Kyungsoo was crouched down inside the handle of the cart, his hands twisting in each other and picking at the delicate skin. He looked upset and small, vulnerable. Jongin quickly hurried over. 

“You okay?” He asked worriedly as he placed the sack back in the cart. Kyungsoo didn’t answer and Jongin walked up to him and crouched down, repeating the question. This time Kyungsoo nodded, avoiding his eyes as he quickly straightened up and grabbed the handle once more.

He set off without a word. 

The rest of the walk was made in silence. Kyungsoo kept up his quick pace the entire way home, just quick enough to make Jongin feel out of breath but not quick enough that anything risked falling off the cart again. Between them the air was tense, and Jongin couldn’t help but fidget as he tried to think of anything to say. 

He didn’t like seeing Kyungsoo like this. All of his gentle curves were replaced with harsh edges. Every muscle was tense, the other’s eyes darting around the road as if searching for something. Even Kyungsoo’s breathing was tense, each breath huffed out from between clenched teeth. Jongin couldn’t help thinking of a wolf looking for prey. 

Was it all because of what Jongin had asked? All because of those dreams? Was that what Kyungsoo’s nightmares were? People looking afraid. Afraid of what? Did Kyungsoo know? Maybe Kyungsoo had been afraid of the same thing. Maybe he still was? Was that what he had been running from when Jongin had found him in the cabbage patch that morning? 

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin tried softly, gently, as they turned down the small path leading around the back of Jongin’s grandmother’s house to the shed and the cabbage field. 

“Don’t” Kyungsoo replied firmly. It sounded like a warning, like the same kind of warning his voice would hold whenever he didn’t want to be touched. 

Jongin listened and kept silent as they parked the cart and started unloading it. The trips into the old kitchen were made in silence, Kyungsoo’s movements still stiff and jerky as if he didn’t have full control over himself, as if he had to fight for every footstep. By the second trip into the old kitchen, Jongin decided to step aside to allow Kyungsoo to do it by himself. The other had already carried over half of the ingredients and he didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. So Jongin simply gestured to where he wanted the different ingredients put and where the cart should be parked. 

Once everything was stored away Jongin watched as Kyungsoo spun around in a circle three times, as if looking for something, and abruptly stopped. His eyes were still darting around the place, his right hand harshly picking at the back of his left. He seemed just as agitated as he had been back on the road home several minutes before. Jongin felt his own insides twist as he watched Kyungsoo turn around in a circle once more, not liking that he didn’t know how to make it better. 

“What do you need done?” Kyungsoo asked harshly, almost barking the words out like an order. Jongin twitched and took a step back, pulling lightly at his shirt to keep his hands occupied. He didn’t like this. 

“I only planned this for today.” Jongin explained, looking down and trying to dig out a rock from the ground with the tip of his shoe. 

“There has to be something!” Kyungsoo all but growled and Jongin looked up, feeling small. Kyungsoo was glaring at him, his eyebrows deeply furrowed and the back of his left hand bleeding from how harshly he had been scratching at it. His shoulders were hunched and his knees bent, his posture crouched. It was the same posture Jongin saw whenever he spooked Kyungsoo. Like he was ready to run away at any moment, or attack, Jongin could never tell. But behind the harsh glare hid the same lost look Jongin had learnt to associate with Kyungsoo. It clashed with the rest, suddenly making Kyungsoo look cornered, scared, small. It made Jongin feel uneasy

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, looking away. 

“Jongin please.” Kyungsoo pleaded, his voice suddenly weak.” I need to-” 

Jongin looked back up at the call of his name. His eyes took in the way Kyungsoo’s hands were kneading the fabric of his sweater, fingers flexing and fisting. Flexing and fisting. As if looking for something to do. When his eyes caught Kyungsoo’s, he saw fear mixed with the lost look and Jongin felt his heart clench. With a quick look towards his field he made up his mind. 

“We could prepare the cabbages for the salt brine.” He suggested, taking a careful step forward. Kyungsoo nodded quickly, his right hand returning to the left to scratch at the already broken skin. Jongin quickly reached out, not thinking of what he was doing, and grabbed the bloodied hand. 

There was a split second where Kyungsoo had time to grab Jongin around the chest and place a strong leg behind his, ready to flip him over at any second. But Jongin didn’t let go and the next second he was upright again, the iron grip Kyungsoo had around the hand holding his loosening. Jongin could feel it shaking, could feel the cold sweat making the palm clammy and the quick pulse racing under the tips of his fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo whispered quietly, guiltily. 

“It’s okay.” Jongin answered, giving the hand in his a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

“It’s okay.” Kyungsoo repeated, returning the squeeze. 

“Let me show you what you can do.” Jongin spoke softly and Kyungsoo nodded. 

It wasn’t hard work, or difficult work, but it was work and that seemed to be all that Kyungsoo needed. Jongin showed him how to harvest the cabbages, what size they had to be. He showed where the stem should be cut and how to properly cut it. He showed him how to stack them inside the old kitchen so they wouldn’t fall down but wouldn’t get crushed either. He showed him how to clean them and how to cut them into quarters so the salt brine could soften them properly. 

Kyungsoo worked quietly, methodically going through the cabbages and only picking the ones he knew Jongin would approve of. By the time the field was harvested and they had moved on into the old kitchen they had enough cabbages to fill the entire back wall of the cramped old kitchen. Jongin was mixing up the salt brine in the large bathtubs now turned cabbage tubs and Kyungsoo was cutting up the cabbages. His hands had stopped shaking by now and the scratches on his left hand were hidden behind one of Jongin’s Rilakkuma bandages. 

Kyungsoo’s cutting was just as calculated and methodical as his harvesting had been. The way he moved, the care he took in each cut and the way his hands handled the cabbages. Everything calculated yet filled with such care. 

The knife in his grip seemed almost like an extension of his hand. He seemed used to working with knives, used to handling things and making cuts. Jongin’s hypothesis shifted once more. Kyungsoo had definitely been a chef, but perhaps not a famous one. He had been the kind of chef that treated his food with such care it could have been a lover he was handling. 

Jongin found himself watching the way Kyungsoo’s fingertips would stroke along the many cabbage leaves, the way his bitten down nails would peel up the edge of a leaf gone bad before his fingers would wrap around it, carefully but deliberately tearing it from the plant. His hands were those of a worker. His palm was large and square, his fingers nimble but strong, the skin on his fingertips and palms rough but his fingers and back of his hands soft. He must have worked a lot with his hands earlier. 

There were plenty of scars on them, most of them across the knuckles but some of them in other places. The largest stretched across Kyungsoo’s right hand, thin and faded, old. Maybe one he had gotten sometime in his teens. There was another one on the side of his left ring finger, high up right under the third joint. It looked like a burn. Another was hidden on his left wrist by the hem of his sweater, only peeking out when Kyungsoo reached out to grab a new cabbage. It forked out like a star and was redder than the rest, newer. Jongin couldn’t help but wonder where they all came from. 

His wrist looked so thin compared to his hands, despite neither hand nor arm being particularly large. It made Jongin think of the vulnerable lost look in Kyungsoo’s eyes, squeezed in between strong restraint and even stronger determination. It was like his wrist., pale and thin but needed to connect the restraint and determination. Jongin wished he could reach out and wrap his fingers around that thin wrist, feel the delicate bones and make sure they wouldn’t break between the will of the hand and the strength of the arm. But at the same time, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the wrist was the strongest of them all. 

“The people.” Kyungsoo said as the knife split another cabbage open. Jongin tore his eyes away from the wrist and hurriedly grabbed the cabbages Kyungsoo had already prepared and lowered them into the salt brine. “In my dreams.”

“Yeah.” Jongin said to show he was listening. 

“They are scared of me.” 

The impact of the knife against the cutting board echoed in the small kitchen. Jongin swallowed. He didn’t know what to say about that. He looked at Kyungsoo from the corner of his eyes, seeing the determination still burn strong in his eyes. He decided to stay quiet, in case Kyungsoo wanted to say something else. 

“I don’t know why.” Kyungsoo continued quietly after a minute of silence. “But I know they’re right in being scared of me.” He admitted, the calculated cutting of the knife stopping for a moment and Jongin could see him flex his fingers around the handle of the knife before Kyungsoo turned away to grab some more cabbages. They had almost gone through the whole harvest. Jongin’s last tub was filling up, a small sea of green and white. They looked almost like jellyfish as they floated in the water, the cabbages. 

“I’m not scared of you.” Jongin said after another minute of silence. He didn’t really know why, but he knew it was right, albeit maybe a stupid idea. He had been scared of Kyungsoo before, but not anymore. Somewhere between early mornings spent in the cabbage field and reruns of music shows on tv Jongin had stopped fearing that Kyungsoo wanted him anything bad. He knew Kyungsoo could hurt him if he wanted to and he thought that, maybe, that was why he didn’t fear him. If Kyungsoo wanted him ill, wanted him hurt, he could have hurt him many times over. But he never did. “And I know I’m right too.”

Kyungsoo’s hand left the handle of the knife, resting against the chopping board for a long moment before he looked up at Jongin. There was a new feeling in Kyungsoo’s eyes this time. Something as soft and gentle as the way his short bangs would fall across his forehead in the mornings before Kyungsoo could style them, yet so firm it could overpower even the lost look. Jongin’s stomach felt like the tub full of jellyfish cabbages. 

“Thank you.” Kyungsoo said, smiling quickly, and Jongin found himself grinning back, looking down at his fingers which had curled too tightly around the cabbage in his hand as he tried to make sense of what has happening inside of him. 

“Of course.” Jongin answered, feeling stupid over his reply the next moment but when Kyungsoo laughed he knew he would sacrifice feeling stupid every day of his life if it meant hearing that laugh.


	4. Make New of Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another light hearted chapter before the plot develops further :3

An incessant beeping woke Jongin from his precious sleep. With a groan he rolled over on his stomach, blindly slapping the floor next to him in an effort to turn off the alarm. It was 5AM, again. Which was not only a crime against everything holy, but also against Jongin and his precious precious sleep. 

Finally, his fingers came into contact with the alarm and blessed silence once again lowered itself over his bedroom. Jongin sighed, the knowledge that he had to get up to stir the salt brine again hanging over him like a shadow. Oh how he wished he could just stay in bed for another 20 minutes...or 20 years. 

He had been waking up once every two hours in order to maintain the salt brine. The cabbages needed stirring to make sure they were all equally softened by the brine, and every time he got up he needed to exchange about 10 litres of liquid for each tub. So in the end, he had maybe gotten a total of four hours of sleep stretched over the entire eight hours that had passed since he went to bed. 

Ignoring the tiredness still clinging to his muscles, Jongin rolled over again, and again, and again, until he had rolled off his mattress and right into his wardrobe. He stayed there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling and wondering what he had done to deserve this, before sitting up and forcing himself to get dressed. 

It was a cloudy day today, judging by the dimmed light shining in through his bedroom window. That would be good for the kimchi making, since that meant his living room wouldn’t grow too hot during the day. Spending a whole day making kimchi was tiring as is, he didn’t need to be sweating half to death as well. 

Today was the big day, the first kimchi batch of the year. It used to be such a big day for Jongin back when his grandmother was still alive. It meant he finally had something to contribute with, something that was anticipated and appreciated. But after his grandmother had died he had kind of lost his spark. He still loved making kimchi, and he still appreciated all the kind words he received from the other villagers, but without someone to share it with, it felt less significant. 

Not to mention all the prep he had to do. Kilos upon kilos of onions, leeks and carrots to be minced, and then the mixing of the paste. His shoulders hurt just thinking about it. At least Kyungsoo was here to help him this year. 

Kyungsoo!

Jongin perked up at the thought. He wouldn’t be alone this year. With newfound energy he stood up and started looking through his wardrobe for a spare kit of kimchi making clothes. They had belonged to his grandmother and were probably a little bit too small for Kyungsoo, but Jongin wouldn’t let him stain the few other clothes he owned. The kimchi paste was notorious for how badly it stained. 

On quick feet he made his way over to Kyungsoo’s bedroom door and placed the clothes on the ground outside. Kyungsoo had seemed excited over the kimchi making last night, after he had fully calmed down, and Jongin hoped he was equally as excited today. If not Jongin could manage it on his own, he was used to working alone after all. 

With one final look at the closed bedroom door Jongin moved on towards the kitchen, pulling a page from the calendar out of habit, 10th of May, and pushing open the blinds to let some light it. Just like he had suspected the sky was cloudy outside. The Kangs were already out in their fields, tending to their rice paddies. It wouldn’t be ready for harvest for another month. Jongin’s own field looked sad and grey without his lovely cabbages. He would have to get the new crops out on the field as soon as possible. 

Turning away from the window he quickly grabbed a yoghurt and entered the old kitchen to care for the salt brine and start preparing the ingredients. 

An hour later Kyungsoo came shuffling out into the kitchen, looking like he had somehow slept even less than Jongin. His shoulders were pulled up high towards his ears and his eyes had dark bags under them, purple and puffy. He was still in shorts and t-shirt and barely acknowledged Jongin as he moved to fill the kettle and make coffee. 

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo mumbled as he turned on the kettle, watching Jongin empty the food processor of diced onions. 

“Preparing the ingredients for the kimchi paste.” Jongin answered, sending Kyungsoo a quick smile before starting to fill the processor full of onions again. 

“Oh.” Kyungsoo breathed. “Is that today?” He asked, grabbing the instant coffee from the pantry and pouring in more than could ever be tasty into his mug of hot water. Jongin nodded in reply, scrunching up his nose as Kyungsoo took the first sip of coffee. He had never liked the stuff. The only reason he had coffee at home was because his grandmother used to drink it. 

“Can I help with anything?” Kyungsoo asked as Jongin finished dicing another load of onions. 

“Actually,” Jongin begun, his hands absently pushing around the diced onions in the large bucket next to him. “If you could wash the salt brine off of the cabbages that would be great. There are some plastic tubs out in the old kitchen you can put them in after you’re done.” He suggested, looking over at Kyungsoo who gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Jongin returned the smile before turning back to the task of dicing onions. He couldn’t stop the thrill that ran through him at Kyungsoo’s smile though and bounced lightly on his toes. Kyungsoo seemed excited, which only made Jongin more excited. 

Kyungsoo gave a low chuckle from next to him and Jongin felt himself blush. He quickly turned on the food processor to drown the thumping of his heart in the noise and bit his lip to hold back a grin. He didn’t dare meet Kyungsoo’s eyes, knowing he would smile like a mad man if he saw Kyungsoo smile at him in return. 

As Kyungsoo exited the kitchen Jongin felt the other’s fingers run along his back and shuddered. The touch was so fleeting, but somehow it was so large. It took Jongin a full five minutes to figure out it was the first time Kyungsoo had touched of his own initiative.

The thought stayed with him during the rest of the preparation process, making him grin and bounce lightly as he worked. The next step was mixing the paste and Jongin quickly filled the food processor with water to make it easier to clean later before moving out into the living room where the tub and tarpaulin were waiting. With practised ease he spread the tarpaulin on the floor and rolled the tub onto it before quickly disinfecting it. 

Next, he pulled on his plastic gloves, tied his hair back with a shawl and pulled a mask over his face before pouring the rice flour porridge into the tub and mixing it with the vegetables, saeujeot and chilli flakes. It was hard work, the rice flour porridge a sticky mess that clung to the sides of the tubs, and by the time it was all coming together he was sweating and panting hard. 

This had always been his least favourite part of the process. His grandmother had always nagged him, tutting over how out of shape he was and how in her time they had no fancy food processors that could cut the ingredients for them. She and her sister used to wake up at four in the morning to chop onions while the boys took care of the salt brine and then they worked until well into the night. 

“Yeah yeah, and it was four kilometers to school, uphill both ways.” Jongin sighed, shaking the paste off his hands before starting to peel the plastic gloves off.

“What?” Came a voice from behind him and Jongin turned around, seeing Kyungsoo at the opening to the kitchen with one of the cabbage heads in his hands. 

“Nothing.” Jongin shook his head, glad he had his mask on so Kyungsoo couldn’t see him blush. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” Kyungsoo asked, a playful smile on his lips. Jongin quickly shook his head again, bending down to absently stir a little in the kimchi paste. 

“No.”

Kyungsoo laughed, his nose scrunching up as he smiled. Jongin stirred some more to distract himself from everything that was going on in his chest. Kyungsoo stepped forward and looked into the tub, eyes widening almost comically and his mouth falling open as he took in the amount of paste in the tub. 

“Is that-? We’re making that much?” Kyungsoo asked, pointing with his cabbage at the large tub. Jongin nodded, holding back a laugh of his own. 

“Yes. We have almost 50 kilos of cabbage, what did you think we were going to do with them?” Jongin asked, chuckling as Kyungsoo turned to look between the kitchen he had came from and the large tub. 

“I don’t know. I thought those were the cabbages for the whole year.” He said, turning back and forth once more. The look of shock on Kyungsoo’s face had Jongin barking out a real laugh. Still chuckling he shook his head no, bursting out into a new laugh as Kyungsoo’s eyes grew even wider. 

“Are we making kimchi for the whole village?” He asked, staring at Jongin like he had told him the sky was green.

“Yes.” Jongin replied, nodding enthusiastically. Kyungsoo looked down at the cabbage in his hand for a long moment, eyebrows still raised high in shock. Jongin felt his stomach flip, full of all sorts of light things. When the other looked back up, determination in his eyes as if he was about to run a marathon, Jongin felt his entire insides flip, his chest tingling with all sorts of weird things. He busied himself with taking off his gloves so he could help Kyungsoo carry the tubs of cabbages out into the living room instead of thinking about everything he was feeling. 

“It’s not as much as it looks.” He said as he made his way over to Kyungsoo. The other snorted, sending the large tub another look before turning to walk back through the kitchen and into the old kitchen. There, in neat rows, the cabbage heads were carefully packed into the plastic tubs. Every single one had been so expertly rinsed and dried Jongin couldn’t help but feel impressed at how perfectly Kyungsoo had followed his instructions. 

With some struggling, they managed to carry the tubs into the living room and stack them around the tub. Jongin sighed and took his place on his knees in front of the tub before grabbing one of the cabbages. Kyungsoo sat down next to him, watching Jongin’s movement and reaching for a cabbage to do the same. Jongin gasped and held out a hand.

“You can’t do it dressed like that!” He almost shouted and Kyungsoo jumped, the cabbage in his hands crushed by the tight grip he had on it. 

“Sorry.” Jongin mumbled, not liking how long it took for Kyungsoo’s muscles to relax again and for the hand to stop squeezing the delicate vegetable. “I meant. The kimchi paste stains, and it really stings if you get it on your skin, and I have health and safety regulations I have to follow.” Jongin said, sneakily trying to grab the crushed cabbage head to keep it safe. “I set out a set of work clothes with an apron and gloves and everything outside your door.” 

Kyungsoo nodded, sucking in a deep breath through his nose before standing up, his movements stiff. He left to change without a word and Jongin felt his mood sink. He hadn’t meant to scare Kyungsoo. He hated how easily scared the other was, because he knew how much Kyungsoo hated it himself. He wished he knew how to do everything right so he wouldn’t scare the other anymore, but he always seemed to mess up. 

“He didn’t mean it.” He whispered to the crushed cabbage head in his hand before slowly lowering it into the tub and starting to apply the kimchi paste on the leaves. 

His hands worked quickly, muscles having memorized the technique years ago. He had participated in the kimchi making for as long as he could remember. When he had been very young, maybe 4 or 5 years old, he had had a small tub of his own where he could mess about with the cabbage and the paste as he pleased, but from the age of 7 and up he had been expected to seriously participate in the process. During his teens, after his parents had passed away, he had been handling much of the process himself due to his grandmother’s old age. 

He had always loved the kimchi making days when he and his grandmother would spend a whole day around the tub and just talk while they worked. She would tell him stories about when she was young and Jongin had always loved to listen to her. 

When she had passed away three years ago Jongin had contemplated giving up on the family business. After all, there weren’t any family left, only him. And just the thought of it hurt, the way his grandmother was so clearly absent from what Jongin had associated so closely with her. But he had forced himself to make another batch anyway, and as soon as he started, the familiar steps of mixing the salt brine and dicing ingredients brought forth memories of her stories with the same clarity as if she was the one telling them. 

Now, making kimchi was something he associated with happiness, with remembering her and his parents, with their laughter and their happy memories around this tub. It had almost become a religious ritual, every step of the whole process, something sacred, and it was certainly that meaningful to Jongin. 

A small cough pulled Jongin out of his musings and he looked up, seeing Kyungsoo stand in the corridor leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. A laughter bubbled up inside Jongin at the sight of the other and he quickly bit his lips to keep it in. Kyungsoo looked ridiculous in his grandmother’s clothes. A long-sleeved sweatshirt in the worst seventies orange colour covered most of his upper body, but not all. The arms were an inch or two too short and the bottom of the shirt rested just a little too high over his hip bones to be normal. On his legs he wore a pair of purple velour sweatpants that were too small as well, they clung to his surprisingly curvy hips and thighs and cut off about two inches above his ankles. The lacy scarf around his head and frilly apron around his waist didn’t make things better. 

“How do I look?” Kyungsoo asked, gesturing to himself and Jongin nodded, struggling hard to not laugh as he tried to think of any other descriptor other than ridiculous. “Juicy?” Kyungsoo added, turning around and that’s when Jongin cracked. On the back of the velour sweatpants the word Juicy was embroidered in silver thread. Jongin had completely forgotten about that detail when he pulled out the clothes for Kyungsoo. His grandmother had gotten them because she thought the English word meant she was sweet as juice and not well...juicy. 

Jongin barked out a loud laugh, doubling over and repeatedly slapping the tub as he laughed. He could hear Kyungsoo laugh as well, deep chuckles echoing in the living room that only made Jongin laugh more. He forced himself to look up, managing barely a second of eye contact with Kyungsoo before he cracked again. His stomach hurt and his cheeks ached from laughing but every time he had composed himself he would look up at Kyungsoo, seeing the other collapsed down on the floor in a fit of silent giggles, head thrown back and eyes nothing but happy slits, and another wave of laughter would bubble out of him. 

It took them almost five minutes before they had themselves under control again. Jongin had laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes and Kyungsoo was holding a hand to his chest, grimacing over how he had laughed too hard, but neither of them really minded. Once they had themselves under control Jongin handed Kyungsoo his own pair of plastic gloves and mask, and showed him how to spread the paste over the cabbage head. 

Kyungsoo worked quietly and methodically, making sure to coat every leaf of the cabbage properly the first time around. Jongin, on the other hand, turned his cabbage over once or sometimes twice before he was done with it, knowing he had missed spots and going through the leaves to add paste where it was missing. 

It was comfortable working with Kyungsoo like this. The other had a calm presence around himself whenever he was working with his hands and Jongin felt the same mood overtake him whenever they worked together. There was no need for words between them, and it wasn’t until Jongin rose to get one of the large clay jars he used to ferment the kimchi in that Kyungsoo spoke up. 

“How come you started with this?” He asked, folding the cabbage in his hands over into a neat little package and handing it to Jongin who packed it into the jar along with the other finished cabbage heads. 

“It’s something my family has done for ages. More than a hundred years.” He said, reaching for some more of the already finished cabbage heads and putting them into the jar before securing the lid over them. They would stay in there for anywhere between a few days and a year depending on how long he wanted to ferment them. 

“Really?” Kyungsoo asked, sounding impressed. Jongin nodded, sitting back down and grabbing the uncoated cabbage head Kyungsoo was holding out for him. 

“Yes. It’s a business by now. That’s why I’m making so much.” He answered. “A tradition too. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.” 

“It’s impressive.” Kyungsoo said, fingers deftly rubbing the paste into the leaf. “I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade kimchi. It’s interesting to be a part of the process.” He flipped the leaf over and scooped up some more paste. 

“Never?” Jongin asked. He didn’t think he had ever had anything other than homemade kimchi. Maybe once or twice in school. 

“No.” Kyungsoo shook his head. “I obviously can’t remember, but my gut is telling me no.” He said and Jongin nodded in understanding. 

“Maybe your grandparents made you some sometime?” He suggested. It was usually the older generation that did this kind of stuff, at least in the city if Jongin understood the dramas on tv correctly. And even here, Jongin was an outlier to be making kimchi on this scale. 

“I don’t think so.” Kyungsoo said. “I think they died when I was young.” He added after a moment of silence. There was a small frown between his brows as he thought, his fingers momentarily slowing. “I think everyone did.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jongin said and Kyungsoo shook his head with a small laugh. 

“Don’t be. I don’t even remember them. I could be completely wrong.” He said, flipping over another leaf and beginning to coat it. 

“I’m still sorry.” Jongin said, meeting the other’s eyes as Kyungsoo looked up. “I lost my parents when I was 12, so I kinda know what it feels like.” He said and Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. 

“Jongin I’m so sorry.” He said. “I didn’t realize. That was really insensitive of me.” He added, apologizing again as he bowed ever so slightly to Jongin. 

“What?” Jongin asked, hands stopping. 

“I shouldn’t speculate about stuff like that, about my parents. Not when you’ve lost yours.” Kyungsoo explained and Jongin quickly shook his head. No, no this was not at all what he had wanted when he brought up his parents’ death. 

“No! I’m only mentioning it so you won’t feel alone Kyungsoo.” He spoke quickly, realizing how weird that had sounded a moment later. “I mean, I obviously care about my parents but...it was a long time ago and for a long time it was only me and Grandmother and now it’s only me so I kinda know what it’s like to be alone. Not that I understand what losing your memories is like but, I don’t know. I just wanted you to feel less alone.” He trailed off with a shrug, rubbing his cabbage in the paste to coat the outside despite it being more than sufficiently covered. 

“Thank you.” Kyungsoo replied after a moment’s pause, smiling at Jongin from underneath his face mask. Jongin felt his stomach do that weird flip it did whenever Kyungsoo smiled at him again and nodded quietly, resuming his work. Kyungsoo did the same next to him, quickly folding his cabbage into a small package and putting it aside before grabbing yet another. The comfortable silence lowered itself over them again, but this time there was quiet understanding mixed in with it, an understanding of solidarity. 

They had finished about three of the six tubs, which was maybe 30 cabbage heads each. About halfway done, and only about three hours had lapsed so far. Jongin looked over at their handiwork and smiled. If they kept up this pace they would most likely be done sometime before dinner. Usually it took Jongin well into the night to finish a batch of Kimchi. 

“How old are you?” Kyungsoo asked, breaking the silence once more. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Of course not.” Jongin said, shaking his head and looking up at Kyungsoo. “I’m 25.” 

“Oh.” Kyungsoo said, eyebrows quirking upwards for a moment before his face grew impassive again. Jongin slowed his movements. 

“Oh?” He repeated. 

“I just-” He could see Kyungsoo squirm a little, something which was uncommon for the other man. “I just thought you were younger.”

“Younger?” Jongin asked, frowning a little. He had always been told he looked older than he was because of his height so he had expected Kyungsoo to think the same. Especially since the other was shorter than him. 

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo turned to look at Jongin and this time there was a glint of something in the other’s eyes that made Jongin frown again. Mischievousness? “Like, maybe 21 or 22 years old.” He said. 

Jongin gasped. No! No he did not look that young! Jongin at 21 had been a nervous awkward mess! Jongin at 25 was... well slightly more of a put together nervous awkward mess. But still! He did not look that young. He looked mature! Right? 

“I do not look 21!” He protested and Kyungsoo let out a short laugh. 

“You do look your age.” He quickly assured Jongin.” The way you act though...” He said, his eyes glinting once more and Jongin gasped again, maybe a little bit for show, maybe. “20-year-old.” 

“I do not act like a 20-year-old.” Jongin pouted and Kyungsoo pouted back at him. 

“You have Rilakkuma bandages.” The shorter pointed out. “And you watch the morning cartoons. And you talk to your cabbages.” He said with a raise of an eyebrow. 

“They’re my babies!” Jongin protested, subconsciously stroking the cabbage he was working on. “And I’ll have you know that carbon dioxide, which we produce when we talk, are very beneficial to some plants. And studies show that plants respond positively to the vibrations produced by sounds, so speaking to them is a very viable farming strategy. And the cabbages like it.” He sniffed, still pouting. “Plus, the Rilakkuma bandages make me happy and happy people heal better so both decisions are very adult and informed.” He decided not to comment on the cartoons. 

Kyungsoo let out a laugh from his side, looking at him with wide, almost impressed eyes. 

“You’re unbelievable.” He commented and Jongin sent him a suspicious look, not knowing if it was a compliment or not. 

“I actually am 25 years old.” Jongin mumbled, flipping his cabbage over and going through the leaves for spots he missed. 

“I know.” Kyungsoo said, laughing again. 

“I’m very adult.” Jongin added. 

“I can tell.” 

Jongin pouted a little more, mostly for good measure. He wasn’t actually upset. Okay maybe just a little bit because he didn’t want Kyungsoo to think of him as a child. He looked over at Kyungsoo, seeing the other watch him with a soft look in his eyes and at once the insecurities left Jongin. 

“I’m actually 24.” He admitted. “24 and a half.” He had only rounded to the nearest number. 

Kyungsoo let out a loud laugh, still looking at Jongin with that soft look in his eyes. 

“And a half?” He asked, eyes nothing more than happy crescents. Jongin nodded with his head held high. “Your birthday is soon then?” 

“Well....” Jongin squirmed a little. “It’s on the 14th of January.” 

Kyungsoo laughed again and the sound made Jongin’s insides flutter about all weirdly. He liked Kyungsoo’s laugh. It was unique, just like Kyungsoo. Short, like him, and uncomplicated but still warm. It was a wonderful laugh. 

“That’s seven months away.” Kyungsoo stated and Jongin scoffed, pointing out that such things were only details. 

“How old are you yourself then professor age?” Jongin asked when Kyungsoo had finished chuckling and repeated and a half for the third time. The question was mainly because he was curious about Kyungsoo and not because he minded having Kyungsoo joke around with him. But if Kyungsoo would ask him why, he would pout and blame the teasing. 

“I don’t know.” Kyungsoo sighed, suddenly looking away Jongin’s stomach flipped again, but this time the feeling was far from good. 

“How old do you feel?” He tried carefully. 

“A thousand years old.” Kyungsoo answered with a small laugh. It didn’t sound like a joke. 

Jongin squeezed his cabbage, still looking at Kyungsoo who was hunched over his own cabbage, working as diligently as always. He didn’t like that Kyungsoo wasn’t smiling anymore. He didn’t like that Kyungsoo had stopped laughing. He didn’t like Kyungsoo tensing up. He didn’t like that it was his fault. 

“Oh, I’ve been disrespectful to you Grandfather.” Jongin said, making sure to add as much formality as possible to his statement. He even bowed a little. Kyungsoo always laughed when he acted silly so silly he would act. 

“Grandfather?” Kyungsoo asked, looking around the room before frowning at Jongin. 

“Oh, are your ears bad Grandfather? I said I apologize for being disrespectful.” Jongin said, having raised his voice. It was the same voice he used for Grandfather Tam whenever he saw him. The man was old enough to have been there to see Jongin’s grandmother be born and his ears had grown bad before Jongin had even been born. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, letting out a short chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Jongin felt himself smile. It was working. 

“Ah. Grandfather must be tired. Having lived a thousand years can do that to you.” Jongin said, once again voice slightly too loud for normal conversation. 

“I’m not actually a thousand years old Jongin.” Kyungsoo protested, laughing quietly. Jongin nodded slowly. 

“It’s almost hard to believe. Grandfather only have a few wrinkles.” Jongin said matter of factly and Kyungsoo gasped, looking at Jongin with shocked eyes. It took everything Jongin had not to break character. 

“I do not!” Kyungsoo protested loudly, however, underneath the shocked tone his voice still held laughter. Jongin pretended to think it over, looking at Kyungsoo seriously. 

“Well...” Jongin trailed off, gesturing to the side of his eyes where crow’s feet would appear and Kyungsoo threw his cabbage at Jongin. It hit him square in the chest and Jongin stiffened, looking between the cabbage still attached to his apron and Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo met his eyes head on, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. 

Jongin quickly threw his own cabbage at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo dodged, of course, but when he looked back up at Jongin his eyes were wide with surprise. 

“You threw your baby!” He said, accusingly holding up the cabbage he had somehow managed to catch. 

“You threw my baby first!” Jongin protested, gesturing to the cabbage still attached to his chest. 

“You caught him.” Kyungsoo gestured to the red mess on Jongin’s front. Jongin raised his eyebrows, silently asking Kyungsoo if he was serious. 

“You did!” Kyungsoo insisted, not managing to hold back the giggle at the end of his sentence. Jongin snorted before straightening up. 

“I can’t believe you’re throwing food Grandfather.” He said sternly, almost managing to keep a straight face. He cracked when Kyungsoo let out a full body laugh, bending forwards to retrieve his cabbage from Jongin’s apron. Jongin giggled as he took his own cabbage from Kyungsoo’s grasp, happy to see there had been no tenseness in the other’s muscles at the skin contact. 

“I’m not actually a thousand years old Jongin.” Kyungsoo said, looking his cabbage over before putting it aside after finding fabric fuzz from Jongin’s sweater sticking to it. Jongin gave him a new cabbage head. 

“How old are you then?” Jongin asked, inspecting his own cabbage. It had remained clean thanks to Kyungsoo’s incredible reflexes. It wasn’t even damaged in the slightest, which was surprising considering Kyungsoo had an unfortunate tendency to be too rough with things. 

“I’m 24 years old.” Kyungsoo said confidently. “24 and a half.” He smirked at Jongin who snorted, shaking his head. 

“Well, then your birthday must be soon.” Jongin commented, echoing Kyungsoo’s own reply from earlier. Kyungsoo’s grin widened as he sent Jongin a teasing look. 

“Yes. On January 12th.” He said and Jongin almost threw one of his babies again. 

“You can’t do that!” He protested. 

“Do what?” Kyungsoo asked innocently. 

“You can’t just take my birthday like that.” Jongin gasped, pout on full display. A quick laugh escaped Kyungsoo’s lips before he controlled himself. 

“I thought yours was on the 14th.” He said nonchalantly and Jongin made a noise of protest. 

“But that is almost the 12th. It was my birthday first! You can’t just decide when your birthday is.” He whined and Kyungsoo laughed again. 

“I think you will find that it was my birthday first. I’m older than you.” He looked over at Jongin, raising his eyebrows playfully before holding up two fingers in a victory pose. “Two days older.” 

Jongin huffed, half-heartedly glaring at Kyungsoo before reaching over and giving the other a shove. Kyungsoo tipped over, clearly unprepared for the attack and in hindsight Jongin could admit that it was probably a very stupid idea to tease Kyungsoo like that when the other didn’t like being touched. Especially not in an attacking manner. 

But instead of retaliating with a foot to the face (because frankly Kyungsoo could have kicked Jongin’s nose in from where he was sprawled on the floor, probably broken his neck as well) the other just looked at Jongin with large eyes before bursting out into giggles. 

“I can’t believe you pushed me!” He gasped, giving Jongin a gentle kick with his foot and tipping the other over too. Jongin went down easily, a wave of giggles bubbling out of him at the betrayed look in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Kyungsoo got on all fours, crawling over and grabbing Jongin’s hands in a light grip before pretending to punch the other in the arm. 

“You’re such a baby!” Kyungsoo complained, still holding Jongin down. There was no real strength behind his hold but Jongin still stayed on his back, laughing loudly as he fake-struggled under Kyungsoo. 

“You’re the baby.” Jongin teased back between laughs, raising his legs to try and kick Kyungsoo off. The other made a face, pushing at both Jongin’s feet and hands between laughs and allowing Jongin to easily sit back up. Jongin lunged for Kyungsoo but the other quickly dodged, laughing again as he held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Stop!” Kyungsoo laughed, swatting away Jongin’s hands as the other tried to get access to Kyungsoo’s middle in order to tickle him. “You’re going to get kimchi on my Juicy pants!” 

Jongin immediately changed tactics, pressing his kimchi stained glove against the purple velour of Kyungsoo’s pants. Kyungsoo let out a small shriek, pushing Jongin away before breaking into giggles again. Jongin laughed, letting Kyungsoo grab his wrist and smear a long streak of kimchi paste down the side of his face and neck. 

His stomach and cheeks hurt again and he knew the mess they were making was going to be a bitch to clean up but Jongin didn’t want to stop. He just wanted to laugh like this with Kyungsoo all day, to play like this, to have the other touch him without any fear and letting himself be touched without panicking. He never wanted to stop.


	5. Remember to Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the tags on this chapter, new ones have been added.

“You okay?” Jongin asked, watching as Kyungsoo came stumbling into the kitchen for the third morning in a row that week. The dark bags under Kyungsoo’s eyes were growing more and more purple by the day and even though Kyungsoo went to bed earlier than Jongin and rose later he still seemed to have barely slept at all. 

This morning Jongin had had to fix the cabbage field all by himself, something which had become a rarity since Kyungsoo appeared in his life. In fact, the last time Kyungsoo had seemed this exhausted had been the morning of the kimchi making day, almost three weeks ago. 

Kyungsoo nodded, grabbing the kettle and reaching for the tap. Jongin could see Kyungsoo’s hands shake and decided to properly look him over. He was paler than usual, the shirt he slept in wet from sweat and clinging to his body. His bangs were also drenched, hanging in stripes over his forehead. A nightmare, a bad one, that much was clear. Jongin felt his stomach twist as he rolled his breakfast yoghurt between his hands, the second one of the day. 

“You sure?” He asked. He wanted to lay a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, take the kettle from his shaking hands and tell him to sit down. Jongin could make him coffee. Jongin could make him whatever he needed. But he knew that while Kyungsoo were getting better with having Jongin touch him, right now would be a horrible idea to touch him. Jongin didn’t want to make Kyungsoo upset, to make him feel worse. 

“Yeah, it’s just...” Kyungsoo swallowed, his voice hoarse. He set the kettle down, giving up on the coffee and just bracing himself against the counter. “It’s hot in there.” He said, jerking his head towards his bedroom. 

“Oh.” Jongin gasped, blinking once. “Grandmother’s doesn’t have an AC.” He stated, feeling stupid for not realizing that before. The only bedroom with an AC in it was Jongin’s. His grandmother hadn’t been able to sleep with the noise. “I have one in my bedroom. You can sleep in there if you want to.” 

Kyungsoo shook his head, fingers white from how tight they were gripping the counter. Jongin wanted to peel them away, tell him to squeeze Jongin’s hand instead. “I can’t take over your bedroom.” 

“We could share.” Jongin offered and Kyungsoo let out a tired humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Not share beds. Just move your futon over. There is more than enough space for both of us in there.” Jongin explained. He could see Kyungsoo hesitate for a moment before shaking his head once more. 

“I don’t want to keep you up.” He said, hands flexing once, twice, against the counter, before Kyungsoo forced down a shaky but deep breath. Jongin started searching his brain for something Kyungsoo could do with his hands. Anything to help him calm down. 

“I’m a deep sleeper so don’t worry.” Jongin said, wondering if maybe there was something that needed cleaning. Kyungsoo usually liked that. It kept his hands occupied. Or maybe he could ask the other to pull out the jar of kimchi in the very back of the pantry so Jongin could bring some of that to his grandmother’s grave. Not that he really needed that specific jar but Kyungsoo didn’t need to know that. 

“...Okay.” Kyungsoo said weakly, his hands flexing once more and Jongin felt his own mimic the nervous twitch. Would the jar excuse be too transparent? Was cleaning the better option? But there was barely anything to clean so wouldn’t that be even more transparent?

“Do you want to help me get a jar of kimchi out of the pantry?” He asked, figuring if he phrased it as if he was the one who needed help it would be less obvious what he was doing. Kyungsoo didn’t like it when Jongin pointed out his distress. It seemed to only make him more stress, which in turn made Jongin stressed. And Jongin turned into a useless mess whenever he was stressed. 

“No...” Kyungsoo shook his head, shifting a little. “Can I-...Can I just take a nap instead? In your bedroom?” He turned to look at Jongin, nothing but tiredness and vulnerability in his eyes. Jongin nodded quickly, surprised at the turn of events. 

“Of course. The remote to the AC is somewhere on my bed. And there is a spare futon in Grandmother’s wardrobe in case yours is...in case you want a new one.” He said, nervously rolling the yoghurt bottle between his hands. 

Kyungsoo flashed him a tired smile, thanking him quietly, and Jongin smiled back, feeling slightly less worried as Kyungsoo walked back toward the bedrooms. A moment later he could hear the squeak of the sliding doors in his grandmother’s wardrobe sliding open and half a minute later the click of Jongin’s door closing echoed back into the kitchen. Jongin let out a slow breath, hoping that the tiredness and sweat he had seen had only been because Kyungsoo had slept in too hot of a room, and not because of horrible nightmares. 

When he was sure Kyungsoo had settled in properly he finished off his yoghurt and cleaned up the small number of dishes collected in his sink. He had planned on visiting his grandmother and parent’s graves today, offer up some of the kimchi they had made and ask for their blessing. It was something he did every year, even before his grandmother’s passing, and while the visit was mostly to show respect for his late relatives there was also a selfish need in it. He needed someone to talk to so he could straighten out the mess of thoughts in his head. And he couldn’t speak freely to anyone about Kyungsoo except for his grandmother.

Besides, she always seemed to know what to do. 

He made his way into the old kitchen and pulled the door to the pantry open. In there he pulled out the front most jar of kimchi and quickly prepared a small box that he could offer up to his grandmother and parents. Once that was done he quickly sliced up the rest of the kimchi and transferred it over to a plastic container which he stored in the kimchi fridge installed in the kitchen floor. 

When he was ready for the walk to the cemetery he made sure to check in on Kyungsoo, to ease the knot of worry that had resided in his chest ever since he had seen the other that morning. He pressed his ear against his bedroom door, listening for a full minute for any signs of distress or commotion coming from inside. None could be heard and slowly Jongin tore himself away. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Kyungsoo alone in the house, especially not when the other hadn’t seemed to be completely okay. 

He decided to leave a note with an explanation of where he had gone and when he thought he would be back, just in case Kyungsoo woke up and was worried. He also gave a brief list of what the other could have for breakfast, even though he knew Kyungsoo could just check in the fridge. And also, a note that he could do whatever he wanted to feel comfortable, even though Kyungsoo had done exactly that during the whole month and a little more he had spent with Jongin. 

Feeling somewhat calmed by his overly detailed note Jongin locked the front door and grabbed the box before heading out thought the back door. In the last second, he doubled back and quickly latched it. He usually left the back door open, just out of laziness. Nothing happened in a village like Yukgye-ri requiring him to need to lock the back door after all. But this time around he wanted to make sure Kyungsoo was completely safe. 

Finally, he was on his way. 

The walk to the small cemetery was quite a long one, almost 40 minutes, but Jongin had walked it many times before. He and his grandmother used to go and visit his parents’ grave about once a month before she passed away and Jongin had tried hard to keep up the habit after her passing. 

To him, it was more than just paying respect to his dead relatives. It was a moment of connection, where he could feel the love they left behind for him. He cherished those moments just as much as he cherished the happy memories he had with his family. Sure, he missed them from time to time, who wouldn’t? But he knew that if he ever needed to talk to them they were no further than a walk away. 

He pushed the wooden gate to the cemetery open and quietly walked down the aisles of gravestones until he reached the Kim family grave. His mother and father were buried next to each other and his grandmother next to his father and grandfather. The gravestones were made of a plain white rock cut into pillars, about half a meter tall. All of them had the Kim family crest and the names of their respective family member carved into them. 

Jongin knelt down in front of the graves, feeling his breath catch in his throat. With slow movements he placed his hands on the ground in front of him, fingertips overlapping, and bowed until his forehead barely touched his fingers. He held the bow for a long moment before straightening up again, feeling his chest clench a little. 

Some might say he was too formal, but for Jongin nothing but the utmost respect was enough. These were his parents, who had raised him and loved him unconditionally, and his grandmother, who had shaped him into the person he was today and supported him unwaveringly. They were his rocks, his foundations, and he would care for them and love them with the same strength as they had loved and cared for him. 

“Hello Grandmother, Grandfather, Mother, Father.” He said, looking at each of the graves in turn with a small smile. “I am here to ask for your blessing of this year’s kimchi.” He slowly pulled out the gift box from the small backpack he had brought with him and laid it down in front of the graves. “I have worked hard and diligently this year and I will continue to do so in the future. Please bless my hard work and grant me fortune in my sales.” He bowed again, just a quick bend of the back this time. 

Of course, nothing happened with the kimchi but Jongin still felt it, in his heart. He smiled and took the kimchi back, careful not to disturb the box too much. Once it was safely back in his backpack he shifted over to sit in front of his parents’ graves. The stones were covered by a yellow pollen, weeds growing along the base, and Jongin set out to carefully clean them. He talked as he worked, telling them about everything that had happened since his last visit. 

Mainly he talked about Kyungsoo, describing how he had found the other in the cabbage field and how the man was helping him out nowadays. He apologized for not bringing him along today and promised to do so next time, as long as Kyungsoo was feeling up for it. 

Once the gravestones were cleaned and cared for he moved over to his grandmother and grandfather’s grave, brushing the pollen away and tending to the weeds 

 

“Hello Grandmother.” He said softly. “How are you? Are you warm enough?” He pulled some weeds away from where it had been growing between hers and his grandfather’s grave. 

“I have something important to tell you.” He said after a moment of silence, fingers pulling at the straws of grass around him. He couldn’t hold back a smile. “I had help this year, with the kimchi making. A month ago, or maybe it was more. It was just after I had last visited you Grandmother. Anyhow, back then, a man stumbled into my cabbage field.” He smiled at the memory even though he had been more scared than anything at the time. “Don’t worry, our babies are safe. I made sure of it. I wouldn’t have let him stay if he hurt them. 

“He is staying by the way. He’s staying in your old room. His name is Kyungsoo and he doesn’t have any memories. But he has strong hands and strong arms so he helps me both with the cabbages and the kimchi. We managed to make 15 jars of Kimchi in our first batch. It’s like when you were still alive Grandmother.” He let out a small laugh, feeling a small blush creep up onto his cheeks. 

“He’s very kind. He’s not like other people Grandmother. He doesn’t get annoyed when I fumble or when I get too stressed out. And he doesn’t make me stressed out. He makes me calm, almost by doing nothing...” Jongin swallowed, feeling his cheeks burn. He could almost imagine his grandmother look up at him with that knowing look she always had whenever he tried to tell her something that she already knew. 

“He’s strong, everywhere.” He spoke before cringing at how stupid it sounded. Why was he so bad at words? Why couldn’t he be good at talking like Kyungsoo. The other always seemed to know what to say when people came knocking on his door. He had managed to talk the Kangs away more than once. “I meant, like, he’s strong like everywhere.” Wow Jongin, what a clarification. “I mean that his brain and his heart is strong too.” He finally got out, feeling his lips stretch into a large smile no matter how hard he tried to stop it. 

He let his fingers slide down his grandmother’s grave, his chest bubbly with emotions he struggled to name. If he focused, he could almost feel her press back, her thin but oh so strong fingers intertwining with his and giving them a squeeze that way both she and his dad had done whenever they were proud of Jongin. He swallowed, suddenly imagining Kyungsoo’s fingers sliding between his own, squeezing. Firm but gentle. The same way his presence was firm but gentle, an immovable rock in the face paced world quickly leaving Jongin behind. 

Jongin saw himself squeeze the fingers back and felt his cheeks hurt from smiling too hard. With Kyungsoo he could be immovable too. He could be firm too. Rooted. Secure. He wished he could, he wished Kyungsoo would share his strength, share his firmness, cushioning him with his gentleness against the hard thorns of the world. 

“I think I like h-...” Jongin started, smile faltering for a moment. He felt small again, alone. He wished his grandmother could answer. He needed the advice. She had always been so wise, had always known what to do. She had always listened to Jongin’s stupid problems and worries which weren’t really problems at all. She had always understood his own emotions better than him, despite insisting otherwise. 

“He’s not always strong though.” Jongin started, changing the subject. “Sometimes he, Kyungsoo, is small and fragile. He has this look in his eyes sometimes, like he’s lost everything, and when he does his hands clench, like this.” Jongin held up his hands and fisted and flexed them a few times. “It’s like he wants to hold onto something, but also to not hold on. He doesn’t need to hold on to anything I think, because whenever he’s lost, he’s also...strong.” Jongin licked his lips, letting his hands rest against his thighs. “But it’s the same way a monsoon rain is strong, or earthquakes are strong. 

“He grabs me sometimes, by accident of course. And he can do these things I’ve only ever seen in movies. He’s like a superhero...except he’s not.” Jongin trailed off, pulling at the grass again as he tried to find the words he needed. 

“I have this hypothesis Grandmother. I think he’s one of the bad guys. One of the ones who has killed and hurt people. I think that when he fists his hands he’s looking for a weapon to grab and I think that when his eyes travel around the room so fast I’m afraid he’s going to pass out he has already planned five ways of how to kill me and be out of there within thirty seconds.” Jongin let out a small laugh, as if this whole thing was somehow funny. It wasn’t. It was terrifying and Jongin didn’t know what he was supposed to do. 

He had had all the other hypotheses too of course, the silly ones, but he had only had those so he wouldn’t have to think about this one. They were a distraction from the truth he knew in his heart. Nothing else made sense. Kyungsoo’s reflexes, his strength, his fighting, his nightmares. What else could it be. A false ID in his bag, 1 million won in cash, scars on his knuckles and precision to the point where it was almost inhuman. 

“You always told me to judge people based on their actions.” He said, turning to look over at his parents’ graves as well. “You always told me a person’s true nature is shown through how they act. But by what actions am I supposed to judge them?” He paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Am I supposed to judge them from how they act now, or from what they did in the past. If a person is horrible, awful, but doesn’t remember it and acts nothing like that now, what am I supposed to do? If Kyungsoo killed in the past but makes me feel like I’m flying whenever I’m with him what am I supposed to do? What is his true self? He doesn’t remember his past self so does that make his current self more or less true than his past? Grandmother, what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to feel?” He reached out again, pressing his fingers against the gravestone with enough force to turn the skin at the tip of his fingers white. 

He didn’t feel her phantom fingers this time around and his heart sank a little. 

“Is it wrong to feel the way I feel?” He asked quietly. He just wanted to care for Kyungsoo as he was now. He just wanted to like the man he had gotten to know without having to care about the past. He let his fingers fall. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel his pulse pound in his hands. His breath was shaky as he filled his lungs but when he exhaled it held steady. 

A breeze tousled his hair, made the grass sway, and Jongin closed his eyes. The air around him smelled of summer, of grass and growth. The sun was shining against his back, a warm embrace of happiness. His grandmother had always told him the summer was there for us to grow. That’s when the flowers bloomed, when the trees bore fruit and the harvest blessed us with payment of our labour. It was a time for chances, for leaps of faith and for stupid ideas. 

And you always had the best stupid ideas Jonginnie

Jongin smiled, keeping his eyes closed as he drew in another deep breath. He had stupid ideas alright, always had had, but if no one tried the stupid ideas who would know if they were actually worth their while. He opened his eyes, smiling up at his grandmother’s grave stone. She might be gone, but her wisdom and love would never leave him. 

“I should judge myself from my own actions too, right?” He asked, looking over at his parents’ graves. “So if I can’t let the past go, how can I expect Kyungsoo to do the same?” He smiled, feeling a little surer in his absolutely idiotic idea. To just accept Kyungsoo as he was, to give in to his emotions, let go of the fear, and ignore the fact that Kyungsoo was more than likely the most dangerous man in the village and that he had already attacked Jongin several times. It was beyond unwise, anyone could tell him that. But Jongin liked his idea. 

With a small huff he stood up and bowed to his family once more. He held the bow for many long seconds, a silent thank you for the peace they could give him even from beyond the grave. As he stood up another breeze tickled his skin, carrying with it the laughter of the Song family children who was playing on the tire swing tied to the old oak tree on the neighbouring mound. 

“See you later.” He waved to his family grave with a happy smile before turning away and heading back home, his heart lighter and his mind clearer. 

As he stepped into the entrance of his house he could hear the steady pounding of feet come from the living room. Jongin quickly toed off his shoes and stuck his head into the living room, looking for the source of the sound. 

Jongin felt his eyebrows rise as he took in the room. The furniture, even the large couch Jongin had trouble moving on his own, had been pushed against the walls to create and open space on the floor. Kyungsoo was on all fours in the corner furthest from Jongin, his hands wringing out a cloth over a bucket before spreading it out on the floor and planting his hands on it. With practised precision he got up on his tip toes and ran across the room, leaving behind a shining clean line where the cloth had mopped the floor. 

Jongin had seen people clean the floor like that before, on tv in dramas and in dojos, but never in real life. It looked tiring, and for Jongin who preferred vacuuming it seemed both unnecessarily difficult and ineffective. Despite this, he still watched as Kyungsoo turned around, mindful to clean the area along the wall strip where the cloth hadn’t reached before, and sprint across the floor once more to the other side of the room. Once there Kyungsoo picked up a brush from the bucket of water and began roughly scrubbing at the crack between the floorboards. 

“Hey.” Jongin said softly as Kyungsoo shifted forward to reach a new area with the brush. A split second later the brush hit him in the forehead and Jongin doubled over, clutching his head as he quietly swore. Fuck! That had hurt. Really really bad. He hadn’t thought Kyungsoo was that agitated. Of course, Jongin had realized that if the other was stressed enough to rearrange the living room he wasn’t okay but fuck, he had expected a cleaning Kyungsoo to be one that had calmed down, or at least was in the process of calming down. But instead he seemed almost as bad as the first day when he had banged Jongin’s head against the wall. 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo gasped and Jongin held up a hand, waving it in an attempt to downplay the pain. He could hear shuffling and quickly looked up, seeing Kyungsoo almost compulsively wringing the cloth he had used for cleaning between his hands. He had seemed to stop mid stride, standing halfway between Jongin and his original position with brows furrowed hard in concentration, but he was making no moves to come closer. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jongin groaned, pressing his hand against his forehead for a long moment as if to press the pain back into his body. As he pulled his hand down it came away stained red. There wasn’t much blood, barely enough to stain his fingers, but still it was there. He gingerly touched his forehead again, realizing one of his eyebrows had split from the force behind the brush. 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo whispered, hands still twisting and pulling at the cloth. Jongin feared for a moment that it would tear. 

“It’s fine, I just need a bandage.” He said, standing up with the support of the doorway. Kyungsoo nodded, his thumb tearing a hole through the cloth. Jongin winced at the sound, still holding a hand against his eyebrow to stop the bleeding. The pain had lessened somewhat but the wound was still throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

Where were his first aid supplies? He blinked before remembering he kept them in the bathroom and starting to cross the living room floor. Kyungsoo immediately jumped back, his eyes widening for a moment, and when Jongin met them they were filled with a look that made Jongin’s guts hurt worse than his head. 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo repeated, fingers having now abandoned the cloth in favour of scratching at the skin on the back of his hands. Jongin didn’t think Kyungsoo had noticed the change. 

Jongin nodded quickly, smiling a little to show that everything was fine even though he felt anything but. It wasn’t Kyungsoo’s fault though. He didn’t feel bad because of the brush Kyungsoo had thrown at him. He felt bad about the way Kyungsoo had moved back from him, as if afraid of what might happen if he got too close to Jongin. He felt bad about the way Kyungsoo’s nails were tearing away the scabs on his hands with harsh and painful movements. He felt bad about the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes, the one he didn’t understand, the one he couldn’t meet for too long without looking away in fear of what he might find.

He quickly moved away to the bathroom, fetching the first aid kit and fastening a thin plaster over the cut in his eyebrow before moving back into the living room. Kyungsoo still hadn’t noticed he was tearing holes in his skin from the rough force of his scratching and Jongin suspected that he would need to help with plastering them. 

“Kyungsoo.” He called carefully, ready for another potential attack. But instead of lunging Kyungsoo jumped, pulling his hands close to himself as if to stop them from moving on their own. Jongin held out the first aid kit and Kyungsoo looked at it with quizzical eyes. 

“Let me see your hands.” Jongin said, gesturing towards the other’s hands. Kyungsoo looked down, seeming to notice the damage his scratching had done for the first time, and looked back up at Jongin. His eyes were wide, the lost look filling them, but behind that was emotions that made Jongin’s guts twist into an even tighter knot. Before he could figure out what the emotions truly meant Kyungsoo looked away. 

Jongin swallowed, walking over to the couch pushed against the wall and patting the spot next to him. Slowly, Kyungsoo moved over to him and sat down, having returned to roughly twisting the cloth in his hands now that he had been made aware of his scratching. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Jongin felt the lump in his stomach grow heavier, making him feel queasy. It was the first time he had seen Kyungsoo run out of words. The other was always so well spoken, always knew what to say, but now even his words were lost. 

“Let me see.” Jongin said quietly, holding out his hand for Kyungsoo’s. As the other reached over Jongin couldn’t stop himself from flinching despite being ready for the motion, and the betrayal that flashed in Kyungsoo’s eyes at the action hurt more than the brush could ever have done. 

“I’m sorry.” Jongin whispered, his voice weak. He fumbled with the first aid kit, trying to ignore the way Kyungsoo’s hand was hovering over his own instead of directly holding on to it. He felt awful, absolutely awful. His heart was pounding in his ears, his hands clammy with sweat and shaky with nerves. He had somehow, in a matter of seconds, managed to destroy the delicate trust he had built with Kyungsoo. He, who had promised not to judge Kyungsoo based on what he feared the other might have done, had broken his promise the moment things got hard. 

He was useless, awful, the worst. And the worst part was that he couldn’t even look to Kyungsoo for strength in this moment. He had to do it all by himself, and Jongin on his own had never been enough, had never been strong enough, never been good enough. He always, always, failed. 

The cotton swabs slipped from his grip several times over as he tried to dab them against Kyungsoo’s wounds. His shaking fingers managed to mess up the plaster he used to cover the scratches on Kyungsoo’s right hand and it ended up barely covering half of the damage done. The second one he used to make up for the first one ended up wrinkled. The wound on Kyungsoo’s left hand was too large for plasters and Jongin’s hands were shaking so badly when he tried to wrap it in gauze bandage he had to start over several times before he got it right. 

Kyungsoo was quiet through the whole thing, but his eyes were bouncing around the room as if searching for something and his breathing, although calm, sounded forced and laboured. It made Jongin feel even more horrible, like he had to throw up. He was sweaty, as if he had run for miles, but at the same time cold as ice. His chest was burning with every breath he took and he wished Kyungsoo would just say something. Anything. Because the silence was suffocating him, the consequences of his actions pressing down on him like a blanket weighted with the icy hard lumps residing in his guts. 

“I can’t stop it.” Kyungsoo said after many long seconds and Jongin looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes for just one second. He needed the firmness in Kyungsoo, the strong determination, and he hated how all he saw was the lost look and a panicked flickering as the other’s eyes searched for something they never seemed to find. “It’s like...like it’s not me.

“My hands move on their own, grab things and my brain plans all of these things and I can’t stop it.” Kyungsoo’s voice was shallow, raspingly forced from the back of his throat. Jongin missed the secure weight he had always heard in the other’s words. “It’s like I’m not me. Like someone else takes over and before I can react I’ve hurt someone.” 

“You didn’t mean to.” Jongin heard himself say and his voice sounded even more shallow than Kyungsoo’s. It was like vomiting, every word burning on the way up and leaving a bad aftertaste. 

“In the moment I do.” Kyungsoo said, and that too sounded like vomiting. “I know why I’m doing it. Why I’m grabbing what I do. Why I aim where I do. I know what to do next. I know what you will do next. I know everything in those moments.” He met Jongin’s eyes for a short moment and the look in them burned straight through Jongin. 

Jongin opened his mouth to say something but Kyungsoo cut him off with more words. They escaped him before Kyungsoo could stop them, like his body was trying to get rid of them. It was like a stomach bug, Jongin thought, watching Kyungsoo talk. Like a cleansing that did nothing but remind you of how dirty you were. 

“I think I’ve killed people. I know I have. I can see it. I can see them, every single face. But I can’t remember. I try to stop myself. Try to hold my hands back, stop my brain from planning but I can’t. My hands grab, tear, push, punch, fire, and there is nothing I can do to stop them. I know it’s real but I can’t remember it Jongin. I can’t remember anything yet I know so much and I just want to forget everything!” The last words tumbled out of Kyungsoo with a choking sound but when Jongin looked up Kyungsoo looked as hard as he had done moments before. Made from stone, or glass. Jongin could never tell. 

Kyungsoo was as still as a statue, made from the strongest of marble and the most fragile of papers. One push could break him, yet Jongin knew that the breaking push could never come from the outside, only from inside. In these moments Kyungsoo could take a bullet but would break from a whisper. He looked as strong as Jongin felt and seemed as fragile as Jongin wanted to be. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Jongin said, because he too had to throw up.

Kyungsoo choked again, his bandaged hand twitching where it still lay cradled in Jongin’s hands. Jongin grabbed it, intertwining their fingers like he had waited for Kyungsoo to do. 

You always had the best stupid ideas

He slowly brought the hand upwards, letting it stroke against his chest, over his heart, collar bones, neck and jaw, until it rested against his cheek. He squeezed it then, gently yet firmly, and let it cradle his cheek like it had been cradled in his hands a moment ago. Gently, yet firmly. 

Kyungsoo’s tears were hot where they fell against his shirt, a cascading fire as dangerous as a monsoon rain, as strong as an earthquake. His tears were quiet, like a disease that sweeps through the body and leaves you weak and breakable. They were small, like the scars from a split knuckle, and heavy, like a memory you want to forget. 

Jongin held him against his chest, his hand keeping Kyungsoo’s hand cradled against his cheek, because he was selfish like that. He kept the other hand cradled against Kyungsoo’s cheek, and Kyungsoo held it in place selflessly. He wondered how he could hold the other like this, with his entire heart, when he was so weak and Kyungsoo was so strong. But Kyungsoo didn’t weigh a thing and Jongin had to hold on even harder to make sure Kyungsoo didn’t disappear. 

But he kept his grip gentle. Gentle yet firm. 

Because Kyungsoo was gentle yet firm, his sobs were gentle yet firm. His hands were gentle yet firm. His existence was gentle yet firm and Jongin would hold onto it so firmly he couldn’t let go even if Kyungsoo gently asked him to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind response on the last chapter <3 I will be pretty busy this upcoming week so I can't garantuee I will be able to have the next chapter up next Friday. I will try my hardest to have it up the Monday thereafter! :3


	6. Growing Farther Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late! This chapter is pretty long so I hope it will make up for the wait :3 I'll try to move back to normal the posting schedule of posting during the weekends!
> 
> Thank you everyone who has left kudos and comments! You make my day <3

Jongin watched with attentive eyes as Doctor Nam wrapped a set of fresh gauze around Kyungsoo’s hand. The wound was healing nicely, according to the Doctor, and he saw no risks for scarring or any kind of permanent damage.

 

“Now, make sure to clean it and rewrap it twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, until the swelling dies down.” The doctor said, looking at Jongin who quickly nodded. “And if it starts aching or you notice any puss come here as soon as you can.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor Nam.” Jongin bowed, feeling a little more at ease. Next to him Kyungsoo thanked the doctor as well with a quick bow. Doctor Nam brushed their thanks away, telling them it was the least he could do as thanks for the kimchi they were delivering.

 

The time had come to drop of the first batch of kimchi of the year to the villagers of Yukgye-ri and Jongin had roped Kyungsoo into helping him. Not that Kyungsoo had needed much convincing. He liked helping, especially when there was manual labour involved, and he seemed more than happy to spend his entire day by Jongin’s side.

 

During their visit to Doctor Nam, a visit that Jongin had intended to be only a brief stop, the doctor had noticed Kyungsoo’s bandaged hand and immediately offered to have a look at it. Kyungsoo had protested at first, and Jongin had felt torn between agreeing with Kyungsoo and not exposing him to touches, and agreeing with Doctor Nam and stilling the worry in his chest over Kyungsoo’s wounds. In the end he thankfully hadn’t needed to pick sides as Kyungsoo quickly gave in to the kind doctor’s offers.

 

So now, almost 20 minutes later, they were finally ready to continue their trek around the village. It was a trek Jongin made every year visiting the villagers and handing out a jar or two of kimchi to them. When Jongin had first told Kyungsoo about it the other had seemed confused as to why he was handing out free kimchi, especially considering Jongin was running a business, but after a brief explanation Kyungsoo had given Jongin that look that made his entire chest feel warm and bubbly.

 

The reason for handing out the jars was mostly tradition. Yukgye-ri was an old-fashioned place where good relations and favours spoke higher than money ever could. In return for the jars Jongin received produce and favours from the rest of the villagers. Most importantly was the Kangs. Mr Kang’s oldest daughter had an accounting business and in return for a fresh supply of kimchi, she handled his business accounting. Outside of that Grandfather Tam allowed him to borrow the car when needed in return for the kimchi, and the Songs exchanged fresh produce with him. And Doctor Nam of course. In return for the kimchi Jongin could trust the doctor to answer whatever health related questions Jongin could ever think of. Not to mention that sharing his produce with his neighbours and friends was just good manners.

 

“Thank you once more for your help Doctor.” Jongin spoke once they were ready to go again. Kyungsoo was already outside, waiting for Jongin as the doctor helped secure the last jar of kimchi in the harness around his back. The doctor smiled at him in reply.

 

 

“Anything for you my boy” He said, placing a large hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “We can’t have your guest walking around in pain now, can we?” Doctor Nam remarked and Jongin smiled, nodding in agreement. He really felt much more at ease now that he knew that Kyungsoo’s hand was going to be okay.

 

“You’re right.” Jongin answered, pulling a little at the bindings holding the jar in place against his back.

 

“I won’t keep you any longer.” Doctor Nam said with another pat to his shoulder before opening the door for Jongin. Jongin stepped out into the warm summer air, squinting a little before he got used to the bright sunlight. Kyungsoo was standing in the shadow under one of the nearby trees, the cloth he had used to carry his own jar of kimchi neatly folded in his hands.

 

“Now take care boys!” Doctor Nam called as the two of them set of down the path and Jongin gave the man a quick bow in return. Their next stop was the village centre, Mrs Choi’s café to be precise. The last jar, securely tied to Jongin’s back, was for her and the café. While giving Mrs Choi a jar of kimchi was indeed part of the tradition, there was more to it than that.

 

Mrs Choi’s café was one of the few food establishments in the entirety of Yukgye-ri, and therefore almost every tourist that visited the village came there at one point or another. This also meant that whatever Mrs Choi was selling was sure to get sold. Since before Jongin had been born his family had been selling their kimchi through her cafe. The tourists who came to the village wanted something to take home, something traditional yet unique that was still familiar enough to be of use. The kimchi perfectly fit the criteria. The café helped sell the kimchi and in return the kimchi that made its way back home with the tourists served to make Mrs Choi’s café famous in the area. That in turn brought more tourists and so the circle went.

 

This jar’s purpose, however, was only to show Mrs Choi the gratitude Jongin held for the woman.

 

“So where to now?” Kyungsoo asked, looking at the roads stretching out in front of them. One of them lead into the village centre, the other lead further away from the village towards the cemetery and Grandfather Tam’s place.

 

“Left.” Jongin said, indicating the way with a jerk of his head. “Mrs Choi’s café is the next stop.” He clarified and Kyungsoo nodded as they slowly made their way down the road.

 

“An extra-large jar for her” Kyungsoo noted, his hand pulling at the strip of cloth holding the jar in place. Jongin stopped, allowing the other to make sure the jar truly was safe against his back.

 

“Yes. She’s been helping us sell the kimchi for years, so she always gets an extra-large jar as a thank you.” Jongin explained. He heard Kyungsoo hum in acknowledgement behind him before he felt the other gently tap his shoulder.

 

They started walking again, the morning sun warming them with its rays. The road was an old dirt road that had been packed hard by years and years of people walking and driving on it. It used to be the only road into Yukgye-ri until 50 years ago when the path outside Jongin’s house had been expanded into a proper road and connected to the bypass road leading around the village. This road connected to an old gravel road leading to Imsil. Because of the bypass, almost no cars travelled along this road. Or any road in Yukgye-ri.

 

Jongin like that. He liked the calm easy nature of the village. Nothing was rushed and nature got to set the pace. Everything in Jongin life was set around the growing and harvesting of cabbages and likewise the life of the villagers was set around their roles. The farmers lived according to their produce, the shop owner in the village lived according to the tourist seasons and Doctor Nam and Officer Park and the other civil servants lived according to the rest of the villagers. There were no trains to catch, no cars rushing, no deadlines, assignments or sales pitches. There was only nature and her steady pace.

 

He looked over at Kyungsoo, watching the other take in the view around them with happy eyes. Somehow, Kyungsoo seemed to run at the same steady pace as the rest of the village, even if he originally came from the city. The thought made Jongin’s chest feel warm and he could help the smile spreading over his lips.

 

Kyungsoo turned his eyes towards Jongin, his own lips pulling up into a smile. Jongin bit his lip, looking down because the sun hiding in Kyungsoo’s smile was too bright. His eyes caught sight of Kyungsoo’s hands, the right one softly touching the bandage wrapped around the left one.

 

“Is your hand feeling better?” He asked, looking back up at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s eyes widened for a moment before he looked down towards his hands and let out a noise of recognition.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He said, looking back up at Jongin.

 

They hadn’t talked about the scratching, nor what Kyungsoo had confessed to him last week, but somehow it was as though they didn’t need to. Kyungsoo had seemed calmer since then, more at peace with the world, and Jongin’s own internal conflict had mellowed out after his talk with his grandmother. The small but successful attempts at his stupid idea had also helped calm his nerves a little.

 

Kyungsoo slept with him in his room nowadays. Mostly because it was too hot in Jongin’s grandmother’s room, but Jongin liked to think of it as partly for comfort too. At least it was comforting for Jongin to have the other’s presence there, even if Kyungsoo was a foot or two away in a separate futon. It was good to know Kyungsoo didn’t wake up from nightmares, or if he did they weren’t violent enough to wake Jongin up as well. Which meant they probably weren’t that bad. It was also good to see the dark bags under Kyungsoo’s eyes were slowly starting to fade and the tense set of his shoulders slowly relaxing.

 

“I can help carry the jar.” Kyungsoo said as Jongin stopped to pull at the harness once more. Jongin shook his head, telling the other he was alright despite the jar being heavy. Kyungsoo deserved some rest. Even though he had slept better this past week there were still dark circles under his eyes, and from the looks of it, Kyungsoo had lost weight as well. His already small stature seemed even smaller after the muscles in his upper body had lost most of their definition but at the same time he seemed rounder. It fit him better, Jongin thought, gentle curves instead of harsh edges.

 

“What makes Mrs Choi so special she not only gets the most kimchi, but she also gets to sell it?” Kyungsoo asked, looking up at Jongin for a short moment before directing his eyes back to the road again.

 

“She and Grandmother were friends.” Jongin explained, gesturing towards the right turn that would take them into the village centre. “Grandmother used to babysit Mrs Choi when they were kids and as they grew older they remained friends. It was hard for Grandmother to sell the kimchi when that was all she had in her market stand and Mrs Choi’s café was having a hard time so they decided to work together. That was about 40 years ago and ever since then the café has been the major seller of our kimchi. Sometimes, when my parents were still alive, they would have a small stand to sell the kimchi in during the height of the tourist season, but once it was only me and Grandmother we stopped doing that.”

 

“I see.” Kyungsoo nodded, a small smile playing on his lips during the story. “It all fits with the village.” He added after a moment’s pause. Jongin made a questioning sound.

 

“It’s very picturesque, Yukgye-ri. It’s like something out of a movie or something.” Kyungsoo explained and Jongin slowed his steps, thinking Kyungsoo’s words over.

 

He guessed the other was right. Yukgye-ri was a very close-knit community. Everyone knew everyone yet everyone made sure to respect everyone’s privacy, at least to some extent. Jongin liked it here, had always done, just because of the quiet respect and stillness that filled the village. It truly wasn’t like any place he had ever experienced or seen on tv before, except for maybe in dramas.

 

“I guess so.” He answered, nodding slowly. Next to him Kyungsoo hummed in agreement. The village centre was slowly coming into view in front of them.

 

“It’s like time has stopped here in a way.” Kyungsoo continued and Jongin looked over at him. Kyungsoo was still smiling softly but behind the content in his eyes Jongin spotted the lost look. Suddenly he wished Kyungsoo had taken the jar so he could reach out and comfort the other instead of having to hold on to the harness.

 

“I guess so.” He said once more instead.

 

“I almost feel like I’m in a dream at times. Like I’m going to wake up and remember everything and then I have to go back to...” Kyungsoo’s voice trailed off and Jongin subconsciously took a step closer.

 

“I can promise you we’re just old fashioned, not time locked.” Jongin said, aiming for a joke. He gave Kyungsoo a small touch with his elbow and the other blinked, the lost look disappearing as quickly as it had come before Kyungsoo nodded in reply.

 

The rest of the walk to the café was made in silence. It was still quite early in the morning and most of the other villagers were still busy setting up their shops for the day. The first of the tourists for the summer had arrived a week or two ago and the number of visitors were slowly picking up. So far Jongin had only spotted a handful of them though. He knew that soon he wouldn’t be able to walk outside without seeing at least a few groups of them though. He just hoped they would be a little less intense this year. Whenever Jongin met any of them he always felt as if they had brought the stress and the worry of their city lives with them. And Jongin always managed to absorb that stress and worry.

 

The soft jingle of a bell followed them inside as they entered Mrs Choi’s cafe. There were already a few guests inside, tourists from the look of their clothes, and as Jongin accidentally met the eyes of one of them he could feel the first twinge of stress in his chest. He quickly looked away and moved over towards the counter to wait for Mrs Choi.

 

“Welcome to Mrs Choi’s café, the oldest and homeliest cafe in Yukgye-ri.” Mrs Choi’s voice rang out in the café as she entered from the door leading to the kitchen and staff area. Her hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of her neck and she had an apron with frilly lace tied around her waist. She looked just as homely as she sounded.

 

“Hello auntie.” Jongin greeted, fingers starting to pull at the knot on his chest holding the cloth and kimchi jar tied to his back. It resisted his movements.

 

“Oh! The first batch of the year is finally ready I see.” She said with a bright smile, raising herself up on her tiptoes to look behind Jongin at the jar. Jongin nodded, still pulling at the knot but making no headway. He could feel the tourists watching them with interested eyes and sent them his best ‘I’ve got everything under control’ smile. His fingers slipped from the knot once more.

 

Kyungsoo’s hands suddenly joined his, quietly pushing them aside before starting to pull at the knot. It gave way with little effort under the other’s strong hands and a second later the heavy load on Jongin’s back was lifted. He sent Kyungsoo a small smile as he handed the jar over to Mrs Choi.

  
“Thank you, dearie.” She said as she accepted it, immediately putting it down on the counter so she could open it up and take a good look inside. Her smile grew at what she saw. “It looks lovely.” She said, smiling up at Jongin.

 

“Thank you.” Jongin returned the smile, taking a small step closer to Kyungsoo. “Kyungsoo helped me make it.”

 

“Oh?” Mrs Choi’s eyebrows rose on her forehead as she looked at Jongin with a shocked expression. Jongin twisted the cloth in his hands, heart suddenly speeding up as his brain struggled to formulate a response to the inquisitive look.

 

“Yes, uh-” Jongin started, shifting a little bit closer to Kyungsoo. “He has been helping me water the cabbages and- well he also helped with the salt brine and he- well he-” He let out a nervous little laugh, not really knowing what kind of answer she was expecting. Had he even been expected to answer? And what was so shocking about Kyungsoo helping him out? Kyungsoo was the most capable person Jongin knew. He could do anything asked of him so why wouldn’t Jongin ask him to help with the kimchi.

 

“I thought you kept the kimchi making in the family?” Mrs Choi asked, her voice quiet as she leaned in toward Jongin as if to make sure no one overheard them. Her eyes flickered to Kyungsoo for a short moment and Jongin swallowed, knowing she was probably disappointed at him. He had messed up again.

 

“Jongin instructed me.” Kyungsoo interjected, looking at Mrs Choi with neutral eyes and a small smile. It was the same look that had made everyone in the village like him. “He was very careful to keep true to the family recipe.”

 

Jongin agreed with a quiet nod, smiling in a way he hoped was confident. He wished he had Kyungsoo’s confidence. He wished he was able to answer exactly in the way that was required of him whenever asked about something. That would be the dream. It would help him so much.

 

He looked over at Kyungsoo, wanting to quietly thank him, and found the other smiling up to him. As their eyes met Kyungsoo’s smile widened, his otherwise closed off eyes suddenly coming alive and filling with warmth and happiness. Jongin felt himself mimic the smile, a warm fluttery feeling filling his middle.

 

“Oh.” Mrs Choi said again and Jongin tore his eyes away from Kyungsoo. She had a knowing smile on her lips as Jongin looked back at her. “I see how it is.” She sighed happily, making Jongin let out a confused chuckle as he tried to figure out exactly how it was.

 

“Love?” Mr Choi’s voice filled the café, breaking Jongin out from his confused musings. The old man came walking into the store, wearing an old knitted sweater vest over an equally old checkered shirt. Mrs Choi quickly turned to her husband, quickly catching him up on the kimchi she had received and its unique making process. Before he could reply she had pushed the jar into his arms, ordering him to start portioning it out and inform Miss Kang to record the order so she could start selling it. Jongin found himself smiling at the look of fond annoyance in Mr Choi’s eyes as he was pushed out of the café by a still talking Mrs Choi.

 

“Why don’t you boys sit down and have a little something to drink? And then you can help me with the lunch rush Jongin.” Mrs Choi spoke as she came walking out into the café once more, wiping off a table as she passed it before gesturing for them to sit down. Jongin let out a noise that was neither a yes nor a no but Mrs Choi heeded it no mind and a second later she was tugging at his arm to get him to sit down at the table, informing him that they had to try her newest drink which was ‘the hottest new thing with the youngsters’.

 

Three minutes later Jongin was carefully examining a tall glass in front of him filled with said drink. It smelled like some sort of milk tea, but instead of being served hot the glass was filled with ice and cold to the touch. At the bottom floated something that looked a little bit like blueberries and a little bit like silica gel. Mrs Choi had called it bubbly something and Jongin was only a little bit sceptical to the drink.

 

In front of Kyungsoo, opposite him, stood an equally odd drink. This one was bubble gum pink instead of pale beige and smelled distinctly of strawberry. There was a layer of blueberry/silica-esque beads at the bottom of his too and Jongin couldn’t decide which drink weirded him out the most.

 

“Oh, bubble tea.” Kyungsoo said, sounding pleasantly surprised, and brought his drink up to his lips to take a sip from the thick straw. Jongin did the same, hesitantly closing his lips around the straw before sucking. He had heard of bubble tea before but he had thought it was simply a carbonated version of tea and had decided not to pay any more attention to what was clearly a stupid trend. Now that he had seen what real bubble tea was, he wasn’t too sure if this version of the drink was any better than the one he had imagined.

 

As the liquid hit his tongue he could feel his face scrunch up in dislike. It was bitter and a little too...tea-y for Jongin’s taste buds. He looked over at Kyungsoo who too had scrunched up his nose as he looked at the pink drink in his hands, his lips smacking as he contemplated the taste.

 

“It’s a little...” He begun, looking over at Kyungsoo whose thoughtful expression made him pout. The sight of the plump lips pursed together made Jongin’s chest suddenly feel tight. He looked so comfortable here, so at ease, with Jongin’s too large jacket around his thin shoulders and his hair fluffy and ruffled from the wind outside. His skin had grown tanned from the hours spent working the cabbage field and a sea of freckles had appeared on his arms. If Jongin hadn’t known better, he would have assumed Kyungsoo had lived his whole life here in the village.

 

“Sweet.” Kyungsoo supplied and Jongin blinked, realizing he had been lost in staring at the other. He looked down at his drink, frowning at the description Kyungsoo had given it. Sweet was the last word he would use to describe his bubble tea. He looked back up at Kyungsoo, their eyes meeting.

 

The next moment Jongin slid his glass over to Kyungsoo who slid his own over to Jongin at the same time. A small giggle passed between them as they realized how in synch they had been and Jongin couldn’t help the bubbling feeling in his middle from spreading to the tips of his fingers at the sound of Kyungsoo’s deep chuckles.

 

He distracted himself by taking a large gulp of the bubble gum pink drink, smiling as the flavour of fresh strawberries mixed with a subtle vanilla tea filled his mouth. Opposite him Kyungsoo also seemed more satisfied with his drink, going in for a second sip with much enthusiasm.

 

Jongin made a mental note to figure out how to make milk tea since Kyungsoo seemed enjoy it so much. He would have to google that at the library the next time he went there. His googling list for Kyungsoo was growing longer and longer with each passing day but Jongin didn’t mind in the slightest. How could he ever when it was for Kyungsoo.

 

“Have you had bubble tea before?” Jongin asked, holding on to his drink as he sipped to keep his hands occupied. They had a tendency to want to fidget whenever Kyungsoo was smiling as prettily as he did now.

 

“I think so.” Kyungsoo said, stirring his drink with the straw. “I feel like I have but...” He trailed off, like he usually did whenever he was talking about his past. The lost look was creeping into the corners of his eyes and Jongin felt the happy bubbling in his middle die out. He licked his lips, trying to think of something to say to bring Kyungsoo out of his memories. Or his nothing-memories, since what he was remembering was the lack of memories. Whatever it was Jongin just wanted him to feel better.

 

As he struggled to find the words he could see Kyungsoo’s right hand inch towards his bandages left hands, his brows furrowed in deep thought. Jongin felt his stomach twist painfully, hating how he had been the one to put Kyungsoo in this state. Acting on impulse, he reached out and placed his hand on top of Kyungsoo’s left hand, rubbing the bandaged scratches gently with his thumb.

 

Kyungsoo looked up, the lost eyes meeting Jongin’s. Jongin smiled, thumb once more gently running over the bandage before he gave the hand a firm squeeze. Kyungsoo’s lips slowly quirked up into a small smile, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he looked back down into his drink.

 

The lost look slowly disappeared from Kyungsoo’s eyes as Jongin continued to run his thumb over his hand, a silence of quiet understanding between the two of them. Jongin liked that he didn’t need words with Kyungsoo, that for once his actions were enough. He liked that they didn’t need to explain anything between the two of them, that they could listen without the other having to speak.  He liked that when he finally found the words, they seemed enough, they seemed to be right. He liked how for Kyungsoo he could be there. He could, almost, with the strength of the other, be strong in return. Almost.

 

“Jongin?” Mrs Choi called, breaking the two of them out of their quiet comfort. Jongin jerked his hand away, bringing it up to his chest as he looked over at Mrs Choi with large eyes.

 

“Ready to help?” The woman asked, smiling at him.

 

Jongin looked over at the counter where a small queue of tourists and villagers ready for lunch had formed. He licked his lips, casting a look over at Kyungsoo to make sure the lost look had truly been chased away. Kyungsoo gave him a small nod in return.

 

“Sure. Uh...yeah, sure.” He said, standing up and managing to almost tip his chair over in the process. He stumbled as he tried to catch it, feeling his face heat up as the café-guests turned to look at him. He nodded at them, forcing a smile. He had _everything_ under control.

 

“Should- He...Kyungsoo?” He pointed at the other, trying to ask what Kyungsoo should do while he was working. He didn’t want to leave the other alone.

 

“I’ll wait here.” Kyungsoo spoke and Jongin nodded, pushing in his chair with jerky movements before quickly making his way over to Mrs Choi and accepting the apron she was holding out for him. He would be manning the register, like he usually did whenever he helped out, and Mrs Choi would be preparing the dishes and drinks ordered.

 

He gave the people in line a hesitant smile as he took his place behind the cash register, hoping to come off as more confident than he felt. No one smiled back. Jongin swallowed, wiping his already sweating hands on his apron before greeting the first person in line and taking their order.

 

With each passing customer Jongin could feel the ball of stress in his guts grow, twisting and turning as he tried to keep focused on his job. All of the customers seemed to be in such a rush, expecting their order to be done the moment Jongin had put it in the register. No matter how quickly he worked and no matter how hard he smiled the customers seemed only to grow more and more annoyed.

 

Mrs Choi on the other hand seemed to have no problems handling the workload. Whenever she handed out her newly made kimbap or drink the customer would smile at her and offer up their thanks. The smile Jongin sent their way as he handed over the change went unreturned though.

 

As he was forced to make a change to a large family order for the second time, the father sighing deeply as Jongin confirmed that they only wanted three kimbaps between the five of them, a movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He looked over, seeing Kyungsoo shift in his seat. He had a serious expression on his face as his eyes flickered between the line, Jongin, the door, and Mrs Choi. His hands were tightly laced together and Jongin could see them squeeze each other as they looked for something to do.

 

An annoyed cough made him tear his eyes away from Kyungsoo as the other’s eyes jumped around the room once again, shoulders tensing at the unexpected sound. Jongin quietly apologized, trying to punch in the right order as quickly as possible to make up for the lost time and of course messing it up.  The guest sighed again and Jongin whispered out another apology, wanting to disappear.

 

Things only went downhill from there. His thoughts kept returning to Kyungsoo, worry building in his chest and mixing with the overwhelming stress of having not only Mrs Choi’s expectations of him to do right but also the customers’ to be good at his job. He kept looking over, kept seeing Kyungsoo grow pale and his eyes flicker over the café far too quickly. Kept seeing Kyungsoo’s right hand drag long, slow, lines over his left. Kept mishearing customer’s orders and kept having his fingers slip as he tried to punch in the right combination for the drinks and sandwiches and kimbaps.

 

At one point he looked up and Kyungsoo was no longer there. At that point Jongin feared he would cry. Despite the worry he felt over Kyungsoo looking so lost, so on edge, so not him, he had taken comfort in the fact that the other was there. Now he was all alone. His mouth was dry as he greeted the next customer, not even daring to put on a smile. More sighs, more disappointments, more Jongin not being good enough.

 

When the lunch rush was finally over Jongin felt weak, tired to the bone. His hands were shaking and his breathing was erratic as he untied his apron. Mrs Choi’s hand burned as it rested on his bicep, the thankful smile sent his way only making him feel worse. Her thanks weighed a ton and Jongin almost buckled under them.

 

“Do you think you can help me out some more during the summer? The customers seem to really like you.” She said, squeezing Jongin’s arm softly. Jongin took a step away from her, feeling as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He really didn’t want to help out but he knew that he would end up saying yes, just like he had done every other summer when she had asked.

 

“Thank you, dearie.” Mrs Choi said, smiling as she gave him a hug. Jongin forced himself to return it, taking some comfort in the short woman’s arms. Like he did every year he tried to persuade himself that this year it would somehow be better, that this year he would suddenly become immune to the stress of the tourists and the weight of expectations, but he knew that it was all hopeless lies. After all, it had only gotten worse over the passing years.

 

“Where is Kyungsoo?” He asked, worry still aching in his chest over where the other man had gone. He needed to make sure the other was okay. He needed some of Kyungsoo’s strength. He needed the calm, stable, rock that was Kyungsoo because even at his most vulnerable he remained strong, unlike Jongin. He was unmovable and Jongin couldn’t help but admire the way Kyungsoo had stayed grounded in himself even though he had lost everything. Jongin needed that, him, right now.

 

“I let him out through the back. He looked like he needed to some privacy.” Mrs Choi replied, giving Jongin’s arm another squeeze. Jongin nodded, mustering up a weak smile in thanks as he made his way to the door leading out into the kitchen and staff area.

 

There was a small, dark hallway leading between the inventory and a side street behind the café there and Jongin remembered he had often hung out here when he was younger, hiding away behind the boxes as he waited for his parents or his grandmother to finish their business at the café.

 

He quickly made his way down the hallway, fumbling with the door handle as his sweaty palms refused to get a good grip around the round door knob. Finally, the door clicked open and Jongin sucked in deep breath as he stepped out of the cafe. He felt like it was the first real breath he had taken in hours.

 

He loved Mrs Choi and her café so much. She was like a second grandmother to him and he had known her all his life, but he absolutely hated working here. He always felt guilty whenever he left the café feeling like this because Mrs Choi was doing so much for him and Jongin couldn’t even repay her the way she wanted. He wished he could just run the café smoothly, smile and talk to the customers as he took their orders, so Mrs Choi could rest.

 

He knew the reason why he was never allowed to even try handling the café on his own was because he could barely manage the register on his own. Even the summer worker they had hired one summer a few years ago had managed to run the café on their own. Hell, even Jongin’s grandmother had managed it the summer she had died. But Jongin could barely handle a queue when he only had the register to think of.

 

It made him feel like he had back in school, like no matter what he did to live up to the expectations and to make the grades he just failed. It was like he was designed to never succeed, to never amount to anything, to never be important enough to make a difference. There was a reason he hadn’t made it to university and that wasn’t lack of wanting to. Yes, he had always wanted to run the family business but he knew that a degree in agriculture even from the shabby college over in Ilsam would have help but of course his grades hadn’t lived up to that. Every test, no matter how hard he tried, he barely scraped by with just a passing grade. Even if he knew the answers he couldn’t seem to deliver them when asked. Just like now, when he knew exactly how to work the register and exactly how to put in an iced latte with an extra shot and soy milk his fingers couldn’t input the commandos.

 

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts out of his head and trying to pull himself back together so he could look of Kyungsoo. The other was nowhere to be seen but the side streets of Yukgye-ri was a network of small paths you could easily get lost in. He would have to go look for the other.

 

“Jongin!”

 

Jongin turned around, catching sight of Mr Choi sitting on a stool a few meters away from him. Next to him was a bag full of mangos and in front of him stood a pail filled with what Jongin could only assume was peeled mangoes. The old man’s hands never stopped working the knife over the yellow fruits as he gestured for Jongin to sit down on the empty stool next to him.

 

Jongin walked over to him, sitting down slowly and watching as the man picked up another mango, fingers treating it as carefully as if it was made of glass as he peeled it, and letting it drop into the pail in front of him.

 

While Jongin had always been close to Mrs Choi he and Mr Choi had never really hit it off. They were more like friends by proxy of Mrs Choi. Jongin was always polite, of course, and so was Mr Choi but still they never really seemed to click. Jongin had always suspected it was because Jongin wasn’t really the model for what a farmer was supposed to be considering he wasn’t really that rough...? Jongin guessed that rough was the right way of explaining it because that was the feeling he got from Mr Choi. Everything about him was rough. His voice, his beard, his clothes, his hands. Rough.

 

“So, I see that that city boy is still staying with you?” Mr Choi asked but Jongin could tell that it wasn’t really a question but a statement. He nodded anyway, hiding his still shaking hands between his thighs. Mr Choi grew quiet again and Jongin quickly looked over, seeing the old man finish peeling a mango without taking the knife from the ripe flesh. He opened his mouth, wondering if Mr Choi had actually meant it as a question and was waiting for Jongin to give and explanation.

 

“How long is he staying?” Mr Choi asked when Jongin had opened and closed his mouth three times over as he tried to find the right words. Jongin’s mouth snapped shut. How long was Kyungsoo staying? He had never really thought about that. He knew realistically, if Kyungsoo’s cover story of him being a friend from Seoul was going to pass in the long run, he would have to go back to Seoul one day. But since Kyungsoo knew no one outside of this small village he didn’t exactly have a Seoul to go back to.

 

“Um...” Jongin forced out, trying to come up with anything to say. Once again, he wished Kyungsoo was here so he could help him out. Kyungsoo always seemed to have an answer, always seemed to find those words Jongin couldn’t get himself to say. He shrugged before realizing that wouldn’t do for an answer. “A while?” He tried.

 

“I see.” Mr Choi said, not looking up for the mango in his hands. Jongin closed his mouth again, legs bouncing as he watched Mr Choi pick up another mango to peel. The man never put the knife to the skin though.

 

“Jongin.” Mr Choi said, turning the knife over in his hand with a small sigh. He turned toward Jongin and Jongin quickly looked up, giving a small nod to show that he was listening. “I understand that they do things differently in Seoul. They like new ideas and trends from the west and they forget our roots and traditions.” Mr Choi begun and Jongin hesitantly nodded, not entirely sure where the other was going.

 

“Your parents were always striving for the city life and while you have always stayed true to your roots parts of your parents have always lived on inside you.” Mr Choi continued. Jongin nodded again, frowning slightly. “So when this city boy showed up, I did have my superstitions that maybe it was your parents legacy that made you like this.” He took a deep breath, staying silent for many long seconds.

 

“I don’t understand these new ideas from the west. Why you would need to go against simple nature and biology is beyond me. But I can see that the city boy is good for you. And anyone who can make you happy and can contribute to our community has my full support, no matter what your relationship might be.” Mr Choi finished, thin lips quirking up into a small smile. Jongin own lips spread into a wide smile in return, a heavy breath leaving him as he thought Mr Choi’s words over.

 

“Thank you, Uncle.” He said, bowing in thanks. A warm fluttery feeling was filling his guts. He had never really thought about himself and his sexuality. He had never had a partner and had only ever kissed two people before. Both of them had been two girls which whom he had snuck away into an empty classroom during lunch break in middle school to steal a peck. Neither of them had made him feel any sparks. Kyungsoo had though, from more or less the very first day. But it was different. It wasn’t like anything he had seen on tv in dramas. It was different. It was deeper, more mellow. Jongin needed Kyungsoo to be strong and Kyungsoo needed Jongin to make sure he didn’t get lost. They worked together like that, as one.

 

To have Mr Choi not only see what they had together but to also approve of it made Jongin feel as if his stupid idea to just go for it hadn’t been so stupid after all.

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer. Mr Choi had returned to silently peel his mangos while Jongin was busy grinning and trying to suppress that grin. His stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering and all he could think of was that now Kyungsoo could stay with him forever. If Mr Choi had approved of having Kyungsoo here as a part of the village then it wouldn’t be long until the rest of the villagers did as well.

 

“Where...where is he?” Jongin asked, breaking the silence.

 

“Who?” Mr Choi asked.

 

“Kyungs-, the city boy.” Jongin clarified, his stomach fluttering pleasantly at the thought of Kyungsoo. Mr Choi looked up, his eyes soft as he regarded Jongin.

 

“Kyungsoo is in the shed. He’s helping me reorganize it.” Mr Choi answered, jerking his head in the direction of the other. Jongin stood up, quickly thanking the older and making sure to promise him that he would soon return to help Mrs Choi with the café.

 

The shed was hidden around the corner, tucked away in another thin alleyway. For the last few years Jongin could remember Mrs Choi complaining about the state of disorder the shed was in. After Mr Choi had hurt his hip when Jongin was 17 he had been forced to slow down his hectic pace and the shed had been left to fall into disarray. Jongin, as well as many of the other villagers, had offered to help but Mr Choi was a proud man and wouldn’t accept any help. And Mrs Choi adored her husband too much to go against his wishes. So the shed had been left in the state it was in.

 

That Kyungsoo had been allowed to work on the shed spoke greatly of just how much Mr Choi must like him. Jongin couldn’t help but feel proud of the other, proud that Kyungsoo had managed to already become a trusted member of Yukgye-ri. The village wasn’t hostile by any definition of the word but they tended to be wary of outsiders. They were proud of their ways, their traditions and their community, and until you could prove you weren’t going to disturb the peace of the village the residents would be polite but untrusting.

 

As Jongin rounded the corner to the small alleyway his eyes fell on a stack of boxes blocking off the small street. He could hear someone move around inside the shed and hurried over towards the boxes to peek into the door opening of the shed.

 

Kyungsoo was inside, his white t-shirt sticking to his back and thin waist as he moved. Jongin’s jacked hung discarded on a hook on the wall, carefully kept out of the way from the dust that was whipped up by Kyungsoo sweeping the packed dirt floor. With each stroke of the brush Jongin could see his shoulders shifting, showing off muscles built by years and years of hard labour.

 

Where the fabric, wet from sweat, stuck to his back Jongin could see the raised lines of scars and wanted nothing more than to reach out and trace them, spell out a story Kyungsoo had, hopefully, forgotten. He smiled, staying quiet as his eyes took in the other male.

 

Despite his muscles and rough hands Kyungsoo still looked small and the sight made Jongin’s chest twist fondly. Kyungsoo was unique, like no one Jongin had ever met before. Everything from his strong eyebrows to his happy smile and his quiet demeanour and stupid humour made Jongin want to find out more, more, _more_ about him. He was like the opposite of himself. Small but unmovable like a mountain. Quiet but telling Jongin more than any book could with just a look. Roughened by time but gentler than the softest of silks.

 

He was an oxymoron.

 

Jongin’s very own oxymoron.


	7. Distrust in Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury so please be aware before reading! Also, this happens to be one of my favorite chapters so I hope you all will enjoy it! :3

The sun was shining warmly, the high humidity making Jongin sweat in the pressing heat. It was mid-afternoon, the hottest hours of the day, when Jongin made his way home from the café. Despite the warmth he still felt cold, an uncomfortable twisting in his guts refusing to go away.

 

He had been helping Mrs Choi with her café during lunch today and just like last time, it hadn’t been great. It hadn’t even been good. It had just been bad, really bad. There hadn’t been as many customers, since today was a week day, but it had still been enough of them to make him feel beyond stressed. He just wanted to go home, get on the couch and not move for the rest of the day. Maybe get Kyungsoo to run his hands through his hair a little.

 

Kyungsoo hadn’t been with him to the café today, instead opting to stay home and care for the cabbage field and the small vegetable patch Jongin had set up a few years ago to grow some produce of his own. Kyungsoo had seemed almost as worn out as Jongin after the last time Jongin had helped out in the café and Kyungsoo had joined him. And as much as Jongin wished the other would always join him he didn’t have the heart to make Kyungsoo do so.

 

That evening, after Jongin’s latest lunch shift at the café, Kyungsoo had described how the amount of people made him uncomfortable, how he couldn’t help but categorize each person the moment he laid eyes on them. Sizing them up, he had described it as. The lack of exits, the constant movement and noise, the lack of control over where Jongin was. Everything would grate on him until Kyungsoo looked like the afternoon where he had broken down on the couch; thin, frail, empty but at the same time too rough. Kyungsoo hadn’t been able to fully explain, but Jongin had nodded anyway, taken his hand and told him he would do okay at the café alone.

 

Besides, to have someone at home taking care of his field when he had to work meant Jongin didn’t have to worry about that as well. Especially now when the weather was so hot. The second batch of the season would be ready in about two weeks’ time and last week they had spent a whole day planting seedlings that would become the third batch. At this stage all of the plants needed a lot of water to survive and usually Jongin would have to get up early in the mornings and stay up until late in the evening to be able to both care for the plants and help Mrs Choi. Now Kyungsoo could stay at home and care for the little seedlings and make sure his cabbages wouldn’t dry out in the field.

 

The fact that caring for the plants seemed to keep Kyungsoo at ease as well was just an added bonus. Jongin had figured out long ago that manual labour helped calm the other down whenever he was stressed or overwhelmed by his nothing-memories. And with the house cleaner than it had been in years Jongin had struggled to come up with something for Kyungsoo to do. But now the problem had resolved itself and Kyungsoo had something to do every day. The only bad thing about it was Jongin not being able to see his little cabbage babies grow as much as he was used to.

 

He sped up his steps as much as he dared to in the pressing heat, wanting to hurry home and decompress as quickly as possible. The sun was harsh against his skin and despite having tanned into a dark brown shade Jongin still feared a sunburn. He would have to do some after sun treatment when he came home. Mrs Choi worried about his skin after all. Although her worry was more about him growing tanned than about potential sunburns, the old lady putting a lot of time into keeping herself as pale as possible, but Jongin liked his skin like this. Both his dad and his grandmother had always been tanned and it felt like he was carrying them with him whenever he caught sight of his deeply tanned skin.

 

Kyungsoo had tanned too, not as dark as Jongin but dark enough that he too had received a comment from Mrs Choi on his skin. It made Jongin’s chest feel full of emotions he didn’t really know what to name as he watched Kyungsoo grow further and further away from the city boy he had been all those weeks ago when Jongin had first found him, and closer to a member of the village community.

 

At the same time he worried a little about how Kyungsoo felt about growing away from who he had been before. Because in a way it meant he was growing further away from his lost memories and Jongin didn’t want him to feel as if Jongin was trying to take that away from him. But Kyungsoo hadn’t showed any indications of feeling like that, and Jongin trusted the other to tell him if he did something Kyungsoo didn’t like. Kyungsoo was straightforward like that.

 

He turned off to the short path leading up to his house and opted to take the trail leading around to the back of the house. Kyungsoo would probably still be outside watering considering it was still rather early in the afternoon and the plants needed a lot of water in this weather. As he drew nearer he could hear the sound of a hose and felt his lips quirk up into a small smile.

 

“Welcome back!” Kyungsoo called as Jongin rounded the corner. The other was standing over by the small vegetable patch watering the different plants. The pumpkins and zucchinis would soon be ready for harvest. He was wearing Jongin’s grandmother’s flowery cap on his head to shield his face and neck from the sun and the sight made Jongin’s stomach twist with something completely different from the worry he had been feeling all morning.

 

He called out a greeting of his own, walking over to Kyungsoo who was calmly but expertly making sure every plant was thoroughly watered.

 

“You look like a farmer.” Jongin commented, gesturing to the hat, t-shirt and shorts. The shorts in particular were a pair Jongin had crafted himself in high school by cutting the legs off of a pair of old jeans. The legs were of different length, because 17 year old Jongin had thought that looked cool, but Kyungsoo somehow managed to pull it off. Jongin on the other hand had looked like a country bumpkin when he last tried them on, which was why he had hidden them in the back of his wardrobe to never see the light of day again.

 

“I feel like one.” Kyungsoo laughed, taking a calculated step to the side so the squash would get some water as well. Jongin followed him, bumping his elbow against Kyungsoo’s. Neither of them minded. “Maybe I was a farmer before?” Kyungsoo suggested, looking up at Jongin for a short moment.

 

“I don’t know...” Jongin trailed off, sucking on his tongue in thought. “You looked more like some sort of model when I first found you.” He blurted out before he had time to realize what he was actually saying. Suddenly the temperature seemed to increase drastically, especially around his cheeks and ears. He could feel Kyungsoo’s eyes on him and decided he really needed to inspect the dirt around the carrots. Yep, that was some good dirt. Shifted just like it usually did whenever he prodded at it with his foot. Excellent dirt. Good thing he inspected it or he would have missed such excellent dirt.

 

“You’re telling me I don’t look like a model right now?” Kyungsoo’s voice brought him out of his dirt observations, and when he looked over Kyungsoo was staring off into the distance in a mimicry of a model pose. A laugher bubbled out of Jongin at the sight and Kyungsoo’s face turned strained as he tried to keep his face blank.

 

“Actually, I think you were a really bad comedian.” Jongin said despite having laughed at the joke.

 

“Yah!” Kyungsoo broke his pose, glaring at Jongin. He didn’t look very intimidating with the flowery hat on. Jongin let out another giggle at his own joke, and as Kyungsoo’s eyebrows drew closer together Jongin’s giggling were quickly exchanged for full blown laughter.

 

A splash of icy cold water suddenly hit him in the face and Jongin spluttered, throwing himself away from the water and managing to trip over his feet. A deep laugh followed him and when Jongin looked up he could see Kyungsoo bent over and supporting himself on his knees as he laughed. The hose was still spraying water on the ground in front of Kyungsoo and as a revenge for the sudden cold shower Jongin quickly kicked up a dollop of newly created mud into Kyungsoo’s face.

 

As it hit his face Kyungsoo reared back, losing his balance and landing on his butt. A wet crack sounded between them and Jongin immediately sat up, looking over at Kyungsoo with large eyes. Kyungsoo met his eyes with equally wide eyes before looking down towards where he had sat down on one of the pumpkins.

 

“My baby!” Jongin gasped, scrambling up to his feet as Kyungsoo quickly moved aside and looked down at the now cracked pumpkin laying pitifully on the ground. Jongin gasped, scooping it up and quietly apologizing to it as he brushed the dirt off of it. Kyungsoo placed a hand on his arm, looking apologetic despite it being only a vegetable.

 

They managed to save the pumpkin in the end, or at least make good use of them. Jongin found a pumpkin stew recipe among his grandmother’s old cookbooks and Kyungsoo had set to meticulously cleaning the pumpkin before preparing it and along with another they had picked from the vegetable patch.

 

Jongin couldn’t help but watch Kyungsoo as he worked. The way the knife moved in his hands. The way his roughened fingers gently cleaned the flesh and groves of the pumpkin. The way he took care of every detail in everything he did. Somehow, it made Jongin feel as cared for as the finely chopped sesame leaves and the carefully diced potatoes.

 

The stew was eaten in silence in front of a music show on the tv. Jongin leaned against Kyungsoo’s side during the whole evening, basking in the other’s strength and the hand gently running through his hair. It made the nervous jittery energy that had clung to him ever since he left Mrs Choi’s café slowly seep out of him as the evening progressed. Kyungsoo’s restless hands found purchase and comfort in Jongin, twisting in his hair and holding on securely to his hip, fingers hot against the skin there.

 

The comfortable silence followed them into Jongin’s bedroom as they got ready for bed. As always, there was no need for them to speak. Jongin still understood every gesture of Kyungsoo’s hands and Kyungsoo could read each of Jongin’s looks. The pair of them slowly laid out their futons and crawled under the covers.

 

The steady sound of Kyungsoo’s breathing, just a foot or two away from him, lulled Jongin into a state of peaceful relaxation. As always, he tried to keep his eyes on Kyungsoo for as long as possible, trying to catch the other falling asleep. But as always sleep were quickly overtaking him, his eyelids heavy and his muscles tired from the day.

 

Before he knew it, he was asleep, breathing slow as he buried himself deeper and deeper in his mattress. His sleep was dreamless, a content rest that would leave him well rested and refreshed in the morning.

 

Jongin jerked awake to the sound of movement, blinking groggily as he looked around the room to try and figure out where the noise had come from. It was still dark outside, pitch black, and the moon was high in the night sky. Was Kyungsoo having a nightmare? He opened his mouth to ask if Kyungsoo was doing okay.

 

A hand landed over his lips and Jongin startled, following the arm up to its owner and meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. They told him to be quiet. He nodded and the hand left his mouth. As he sat up, slowly so to not make a sound, his eyes followed Kyungsoo quietly moving to the corner of his room where Jongin’s baseball bat was leaned against the wall. He grabbed in a tight grip, his eyes glued to the bedroom door.

 

A creek suddenly broke the silence of the night and Jongin flinched at the sound, his eyes too fixing themselves to the bedroom door. He knew that creek. It was the sound of someone stepping on the threshold between the kitchen and living room. His grandmother always used to complain about it. He looked back at Kyungsoo who had, in the span of barely seconds, raised the bat and moved to stand next to the door.

 

‘ _Stay_ ’ Kyungsoo gestured by holding up his hand towards Jongin, eyes not leaving the door. Jongin crawled out from under the covers, watching Kyungsoo’s every move. The sound of footsteps suddenly drew close. How many sets Jongin couldn’t make out and the realization that someone, multiple someones, were in his house suddenly dawned on him.

 

An ice-cold wave of fright suddenly crashed down over him, making his hands shake and his chest feel tight. He looked back at Kyungsoo once more, trying to get his attention without also alerting the intruders. They needed to call the police!

 

Slowly Kyungsoo reached for the handle, grabbing it and soundlessly pushing the door open. Jongin stood up, ready to follow Kyungsoo out of the room. He couldn’t let the other step out there alone. What if the intruder was dangerous? What if they had a gun? He couldn’t let Kyungsoo get hurt.

 

The shorter froze in the middle of pushing the door open, leaving a gap of mere millimetres between the door and the doorframe. A tense silence, so unlike the one that had followed them through the evening, stretched between them. The footsteps were loud like gunshots against Jongin’s eardrums as they drew closer and closer to the bedroom door.

 

His heart fluttered like the wings of a fly escaping an oncoming hand ready to squash it without second thought. Kyungsoo was immobile in front of him, breathing even and controlled. Jongin’s breath shuddered with every inhale, his hands dancing with nervousness as he pressed them against his chest. What if the intruder came in here? What were they going to do?

 

The footsteps drew even closer and Kyungsoo took a step back, his legs strong as his feet braced against the worn wooden planks of the floor. He raised the bat, resting it between the thumb and fingers of one of his hands as the other grabbed the end of it in a strong grip, veins raising around his thin wrist as he tightened his grip even more. The bat was aimed towards the door, not entirely unlike a billiards’ pool ready to send the ball across the pool table.

 

The door flung open, the bright light of a flashlight flooding the room and blinding Jongin. A loud, metallic clang, dulled upon impact by flesh, sounded in the small room and Jongin let out a yelp. A second later the bright light left his eyes as the intruder crumpled into a small pile in front of Kyungsoo.

 

“Inhyuk?” A rough voice called out and Kyungsoo quickly stepped over the passed-out body crumpled in the doorway.

 

“Stay!” He barked at Jongin, his voice coarse as gravel. Jongin flinched, hurrying forwards and after Kyungsoo as the shorter disappeared from the doorway.

 

As he peaked down the corridor leading to the living room he saw Kyungsoo swing the bat, his muscles moving identically to but at the same time completely differently to the players Jongin had seen on TV. Opposite Kyungsoo was another man who ducked in the last second, Jongin’s meat cleaver grasped in his hands.

 

“Kyungsoo!” Jongin gasped as Kyungsoo expertly ducked a swing from the knife, following through the sweeping motion by jabbing a strong hand into the side of the intruder and popping an elbow up into the nose as the other man doubled over. The intruder stumbled backwards, clutching a bleeding nose and dropping the meat cleaver.

 

Kyungsoo turned to glare at Jongin, his eyes black as the night. None of the gentleness Jongin had grown so used to could be seen. Jongin stumbled backwards, his foot landing on the crumpled man by the door and another yelp left his mouth. He Jumped, scrambling away from the body with another strangled scream.

 

A growl echoed through the house and Jongin turned back towards the living room, seeing a third man suddenly jump at Kyungsoo. He was huge, taller than Jongin and with arms like tree trunks. Kyungsoo turned around, arms raising to protect his head, but the intruder was too fast and the large hand landed a punch on the shorter’s cheek with a thud that made Jongin’s stomach turn.

 

Jongin dove forwards, mouth open in a scream of horror, or was it rage, Jongin didn’t know. All he knew was how fragile his hands felt as they hit the large intruder. How small he felt as an elbow hit him in the middle. How insignificant he felt as Kyungsoo with sharp movements placed a hand around the intruder’s neck, tore him away from Jongin, and kicked his legs out underneath him.

 

Jongin couched, trying to get his breathing under control. In front of him Kyungsoo had straddled the larger man and was pressing the bat down against his neck, cutting off his air flow. The larger intruder was flailing under him, pushing against the bat and kicking his legs uselessly. Jongin tried to stand up but his legs gave out under him immediately, his lungs still not pulling in enough air.

 

The sound of flesh meeting flesh reached Jongin’s ears and he looked up, sight blurry from tears. Kyungsoo had been knocked off the larger intruder by the second one with blood still flowing out of his nose, and was now clutching his side as he tried to stand up. The bleeding intruder picked up the bat, swinging it toward Kyungsoo who quickly rolled out of the way.

 

With movements that spoke of years of training Kyungsoo stood up, grabbed the dropped meat cleaver, and threw it toward the intruders in one smooth motion. The knife flew through the air faster than Jongin could track it and a piercing scream rang out in the living room. Jongin blinked, trying to figure out what had happened, and when he opened his eyes again the bat was flying in his direction, thrown out of the way by Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin ducked, the bat missing him by a good meter, and carefully peaked back up. The larger intruder was back on his feet, backing up with a panicked expression on his face as Kyungsoo cornered him, effectively blocking any and all punches thrown at him.

 

As the larger intruder took a desperate swing at Kyungsoo’s head Kyungsoo grabbed his wrist, turned the man around and twisted his arm up around his back. A picture of Jongin’s grandmother fell to the floor and shattered as Kyungsoo forced the intruder against the wall. Another thud followed, Kyungsoo’s blood stained hand gripping short hair and smashing the large intruder’s head into the wall.

  
“WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?!” Kyungsoo screamed, pulling the intruder’s head back until Jongin feared he would break the man’s neck. The intruder whimpered and Kyungsoo smashed his face into the wall again. “WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?!” Kyungsoo repeated and Jongin scrambled to stand up, realizing he had to stop this before it went too far.

 

“We’re- we’re just robbers we’re not working for any-” The intruder began once more before breaking off in a scream. Jongin had heard the pop of his shoulder being forced out of joint and fought against the urge to throw up as he hurried over to the other.

 

“Soo.” He gasped, grabbing the blood-stained hand holding on to the large intruder’s head. A second later a strong grip crushed his wrist, his world turning so fast Jongin lost all perception of where he was before he felt a hand pushing against the back of his head and his air being cut off by and arm squeezing his neck.

 

He gasped, kicking his legs as he tried to think through the panic in his head. He could see the large intruder, him too a crumpled heap on the floor like the first one outside his bedroom. Blood was sluggishly running down his face from a cut in his forehead. He couldn’t see Kyungsoo anywhere though. With a cry that he instantly regretted, precious air being wasted, Jongin looked around, trying to come to any other conclusion than Kyungsoo being the one choking him. 

 

He blinked, panic pumping through his veins as he tried to get away from the choke hold. His fingers clawed at the arm around his neck, muscles unyielding, skin rough under his fingers. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, drowning out his panicked whimpers, and his vision was turning blurry, a static white fog creeping in from the corners. His fingers fumbled, trying to find anything to hold on to, and found Kyungsoo’s hand. The raised lines of scratches Kyungsoo had put there more than a week prior came loose under his nails and his thumb quickly smeared the blood, a mockery of the comforting gesture he had given so many times before.

 

The pressure suddenly disappeared, air rushed down his into his lungs. Jongin heaved, collapsing down on his back. Every breath hurt, air coarse as sandpaper with each inhale. He closed his eyes and just focused on breathing, on the fact that the choke hold around his neck had been released and that he wasn’t going to die.

 

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo’s hesitant voice called out from somewhere behind him and Jongin involuntarily flinched at the sound. He forced himself to open his eyes and slowly looked in the direction Kyungsoo’s voice had come from.

 

The other was curled up by the couch, eyes wide as they flew between Jongin and the rest of the room. Jongin followed the fleeting looks, catching sight of the large intruder a meter or two in front of him. He was still laying crumpled on the floor, seeming to have passed out. The other intruder was nowhere to be seen but Jongin could see the open front door from where he was and the bloodied meat cleaver disregarded by the entryway. The second intruder had probably fled.

 

Jongin closed his eyes again, resting his head on the floor again and breathing slowly to convince himself that he could still do it. This was a mess, a complete mess. There was blood on his floor, intruders in his home, and he had almost ended up dead. Kyungsoo had almost killed him. _Kyungsoo_ had almost killed him. Anger bubbled up inside of him and Jongin turned back towards Kyungsoo with a glare.

  
“What the fuck Soo!?” He growled, his voice raspy from the choking. Kyungsoo didn’t meet his eyes, instead staring motionlessly at the crumpled intruder. “I told you we should have called the fucking police! Now look at what happened! How the fuck are we going to explain this?!”

 

Kyungsoo didn’t reply, instead looking down at his lap. His hands were squeezing each other and spreading the blood over the skin.

 

“Well?” He questioned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Aren’t you going to say anything? You fucking choked me.” The last sentence trailed off in a deep sigh, the adrenaline from the fight having gone out of him. He couldn’t be mad at Kyungsoo, not when the other still looked terrified. He knew touching Kyungsoo hadn’t been a good idea. He knew he hadn’t listened to Kyungsoo at any point during the night. He knew that Kyungsoo had only wanted to protect him.

 

He looked back at Kyungsoo, seeing the other look at him with large eyes. Guilt immediately filled him at the expression on Kyungsoo’s face. They both knew the other was fully aware of what had happened between them. Jongin couldn’t say anything despite wanting too. He wanted to take back the words that had passed between them. But he couldn’t. And he couldn’t read the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

 

The large intruder groaned and both of them turned to look at him, the tense atmosphere between the two of them broken. That’s right, Jongin still had to deal with the fact that he had had a break in. He needed to call the police, preferably before any of the intruders woke up.

 

“I’m gonna call the police.” He informed Kyungsoo, pushing himself up to standing. The anger that had burned out so quickly had left behind a cold pit of worry in his guts, and as he looked down at his hands, seeing blood on his skin, it only increased. He wiped his fingers on his pyjama pants before forcing himself to move.

 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo’s voice was weak in the silent night air. Jongin looked at him, taking in the way his hands were dancing with nervousness, picking at the scabs and rubbing off the dried blood.

 

“It’s...” Jongin bit his lip, looking away. It wasn’t fine, but it wasn’t awful. It was... “Okay. It’s okay Soo.” Jongin pushed his hair out of his face, fingers pulling at his ear quickly before the tension got too much for him to bare. He moved over to the entryway and where the meat cleaver lay and picked it up.

 

“I’m really sorry.” Kyungsoo said, eyes still fluttering around the room. Jongin bit his lip again, wiping up some of the remaining blood on the floor with his sock before heading to the kitchen. He turned on the tap and put the cleaver under the water, making sure to clean up his own hands as well.

 

“It’s fine Kyungsoo. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.” Jongin called back into the living room. The words felt empty. He wished he knew what to say. He turned off the tap and dried his hands. Kyungsoo didn’t reply.

 

“Could you, could you bring the other guy?” Jongin asked as he peaked his head out into the living room. He jerked his head in the direction of the hallway as Kyungsoo looked over at him for a short moment. Kyungsoo nodded and uncurled himself from his position by the couch. He looked small, smaller than Jongin remembered with hunched over shoulders and furrowed brows.

 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo whispered again.

 

“Stop with the apologizing!” Jongin snapped and Kyungsoo jumped, eyes wide as he looked at Jongin. “Shit! Sorry. Kyungsoo I’m sorry.” Jongin said, immediately regretting having lost his temper. He just felt so on edge, like they were still under attack. He stepped out of the kitchen, intending on putting a light hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder so he could apologize properly but the other flinched away, hiding his hands behind his back.

 

“It’s fine.” Kyungsoo said, meeting Jongin’s eyes for a short moment. Jongin held his breath, seeing the swirl of emotions inside of him reflected in Kyungsoo’s dark orbs. Fear, confusion, and the remains of panic. There was also something else, something that made the icy ball in Jongin’s guts grow in size. There was distrust in those eyes, but not aimed toward Jongin.

 

Before he could figure out what was going on inside Kyungsoo’s head the shorter broke eye contact and moved away. Jongin cleared his throat, glad to hear that the wheezing sound had disappeared, and moved back into the kitchen.

 

He needed to call the police.

 

He picked up the receiver and quickly punched in the number to officer Park, the police officer on duty. She lived about 30 minutes away from his house and he hoped she would be able to make it here before the intruders woke up.

 

The slow, low beeping indicating the call had gone through seemed distant in his ears and his hands shook as he fiddled with the phone cord. It didn’t feel safe to stand here, with his back toward the living room. The scene of the larger of the intruders throwing himself over Kyungsoo flashed before his eyes.

 

The fear he had felt at that moment, the gut wrenching punch of coldness that had hit him in his chest as he saw the knuckles land on Kyungsoo’s face hit him again. His breathing shuddered, the knowledge that if the large intruder woke back up the same thing could happen again pressing down on him. Could Kyungsoo handle that? Could _he_ handle that? What would happen? Who would end up hurt? Was Kyungsoo hurt? Now? Was Kyungsoo hurt now? He hadn’t even asked. He should have asked. He had to ask.

 

“Hello!” A stern voice called in his ear and Jongin jerked, realizing the call had been answered several seconds earlier and he had just been standing there breathing like some sort of creep.

 

“Hello.” He finally answered.

 

“Yes hello. You’ve reached Officer Park. How can I help you?” The voice answered and Jongin swallowed thickly.

 

“Hi Soohye.” He said, his voice sounding small in his ears. “I’ve had a break in.” He explained, twisting the phone cord around his fingers.

 

“Jongin?” The voice asked and Jongin nodded, letting out a quiet hum in confirmation. “A break in? Do you need help? Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, we’re-, were mostly okay. There was...um,” He trailed off, not really knowing how to explain what had happened. “We were attacked but...uh...it was self-defence so we had to-”

 

“They attacked you?” Soohye asked and Jongin nodded again, letting out another quiet hum in confirmation. “Have you called Doctor Nam?” Jongin shook his head.

 

“No. No not yet.” He replied. He hadn’t even realized that calling Doctor Nam was something he was supposed to do. A dull throbbing ache in his ribs from where the large intruder had landed his blow suddenly bloomed and Jongin grimaced, rubbing the area with his hand. Kyungsoo was also hurt. He had to be with the blows Jongin had seen landing on him. He felt queasy.

 

“Call the doctor Jongin.” Officer Park ordered. “I’ll be over there as soon as I can. Do I need to make an arrest Jongin?”

 

“Yes. Yes to both.” Jongin replied, fingers starting to turn blue from how tightly he had twisted the phone cord around them.

 

“See you in a moment Jongin.”

 

The call disconnected and Jongin hung up the phone, pulling at his pyjama shirt and moving back out into the living room. The two intruders were now positioned by the door, still unconscious, and Kyungsoo was standing next to them, the baseball bat close by but not within reach. Jongin swallowed quickly and went to call Doctor Nam.

 

The doctor arrived before Officer Park, gasping at the sight of the intruders and immediately rushing up to Jongin. Jongin gave him the short of what had happened, not being able to find enough words to produce sentences longer than a few words. They had woken up. It had been self-defence. He didn’t mention Kyungsoo choking him despite Doctor Nam noticing the bruises forming around his neck.

 

By the time Officer Park showed up Doctor Nam was attending to a still skittish Kyungsoo. It was out of character for him to be this twitchy, even compared to how panicky he got after nightmares sometimes. Jongin found himself staring at Kyungsoo’s nails raking open the skin of his hand, fingers turning red from blood. He refused to let the doctor look at his hands, hiding them by sitting on them and doing everything he could not to touch the doctor. Jongin couldn’t help his mind from wandering to the memory of first meeting Kyungsoo and the other had done the same. The image he had in front of him now was nothing like the memory despite the situation being so close. The Kyungsoo back then seemed almost calm compared to the Kyungsoo he saw now.

 

To retell the events of the night to Officer Park had been almost as difficult as telling the doctor. In the beginning the words flowed easier, his story less choppy and probably more understandable. But as he kept talking he felt his words become slurred, a dimness lowering itself over him as time went on. He felt distant, eyes moving between Kyungsoo’s nervous fingers and his own hands nervously pulling at his pyjama shirt.

 

Once the pair of them left, Doctor Nam offering to let them stay in his house for the night and Officer Park taking the intruders away, Jongin felt as if he had the whole world pressing down on his chest. He felt tired to the bone, his muscles sore as if he had run a marathon and his brain buzzing with half-finished thoughts. He dimly registered Kyungsoo telling him to go to bed, his voice still lacking that sturdy quality it always had, and somehow, he ended up in his bedroom again.

 

The tiredness didn’t leave him as he laid down. Oddly enough it just became worse with each passing second, like his body was giving out. But he couldn’t fall asleep. His eyes refused to leave the bedroom door for more than a second.

 

“Kyungsoo?” He croaked out. Why wasn’t the other here in with him? The sound of clad feet running down the hallway reached him and Kyungsoo’s worried face appeared in the door opening, eyes wide and skin pale. “Do you think they’ll come back.” Jongin heard himself ask. His eyelids were heavy, eyes drooping.

 

“No.” Kyungsoo quickly shook his head, eyes not staying on Jongin for more than a split second before they looked down the hallway. “I’ll keep watch.” Kyungsoo promised, eyes meeting Jongin’s for the first time since the doctor and Officer Park had left. Determination was the first thing Jongin saw in them and the familiar sight filled him with ease. But as the moment grew longer Jongin felt himself frown, his overwhelmed brain figuring out that behind the determination in Kyungsoo’s dark orbs something was hiding. Something he felt he definitely needed to find.

 

Kyungsoo looked away again and Jongin closed his eyes, feeling the claws of sleep grasp him for a short moment before he forced himself to look back up.

 

“Come lay down.” Jongin mumbled, the words muffled by his pillow. He knew he heard Kyungsoo answer as his eyes slid shut again, nervousness soothed by the presence of the other and the sound of his voice, but his brain didn’t have time to register the words before sleep claimed him.

 

_I’ll keep watch_

 

 

 

 

He woke up feeling cold. Jongin blinked sleepily, his throat and side hurting with each breath. He grimaced, the memories of last night’s break in returning to him and immediately his body tensed up. A groan left him as his tired muscles protested against the movements. He tried burying deeper into the blankets, hoping some heat would help him relax. Maybe if he fell back asleep last night’s break in wouldn’t have happened.

 

As he waited for sleep to claim him once more, shivering under his thin blanket, he found himself staring at the wall opposite him. There was a crack leading up the wall towards the window and Jongin followed it. The sun was shining in through the blinds but its rays held none of their usual warmth. His room, the one he had grown up in and spent every night in for as long as he could remember, suddenly felt foreign to him. He curled up, another shiver running up his spine, and sighed. There might have been nothing stolen last night but the burglars still managed to take something from him.

 

He turned around, seeking some comfort in Kyungsoo, but instead he was met with an empty futon. He reached out, placing a hand on the mattress. It was cold. He sat up, looking around the room for a sign of Kyungsoo. He tried to remember when the other had gone to bed last night and came up short.

 

Had Kyungsoo even gone to bed? He couldn’t remember. All he could remember was the other standing in the doorway, nails running over already bloodied skin and eyes not meeting his. Jongin felt his stomach clench, his hands curling in the cold sheets of Kyungsoo’s futon.

 

On still tired legs he got up, not bothering to change out of his sleepwear as he set out to find the other man. As he crossed the threshold between the bedroom and hallway he couldn’t help but think of the crumpled form of the intruder from last night. He stared at the floor, seeing scratches in the sturdy wood that hadn’t been there before. Or was that just his imagination?

 

The sound of a door sliding shut tore him away from his musings and Jongin quickly stepped away from the spot and the memory. That sound had to have been Kyungsoo, right? But why was he closing doors? Jongin never closed the doors, except for the ones leading to the outside. And Kyungsoo had always done the same.

 

“Kyungsoo?” He called out, and for half a second he panicked over where they had put the bat last night as no answer came. Then, quietly, hoarsely:

 

“Jongin?”

 

Jongin quickly stepped toward the sound, worried at the weary quality of Kyungsoo’s voice. Had something else happened? Was Kyungsoo hurt? Had Doctor Nam missed an injury last night during the short examination? He could feel his guts twist into a tighter ball, his breathing speeding up for a moment before Kyungsoo stepped out of the kitchen.

 

Both of them froze, eyes meeting. Jongin felt his breath hitch in his throat at the sight of the other. Kyungsoo’s skin was pale, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than Jongin had ever seen them. There was a bruise forming on his cheekbone where he had been struck last night but despite the swelling his cheeks still looked sunken in.

 

He looked like death.

 

Worst of all though, was the look in his eyes. He looked so lost, so fragile in a way Jongin wasn’t used to seeing him. There was fear and doubt hiding behind the lost look, the same distrust he had seen last night that Jongin still couldn’t place.

 

The eye contact between them broke as Kyungsoo flinched away, hiding his free hand behind his back while his other tightened around the door frame. Jongin hadn’t realized he had been moving closer, his hand outstretched toward Kyungsoo. He pulled it back to his chest, feeling the lump in his guts grow.

 

“You didn’t sleep?” He asked, taking another step forward. Kyungsoo took a step back, fingers white from how tightly he was grasping the door frame.

 

“I kept watch.” Kyungsoo replied simply, blank face revealing none of the nervousness Jongin could read in the set of his shoulders.

 

“All night?” Jongin asked, moving to reach out again. He didn’t like seeing Kyungsoo like this. It was like the polar opposite of what he was used to. Kyungsoo was always so strong, unmoving like a mountain. He was Jongin’s constant, the one who would always be there for him, the one Jongin knew nothing, _nothing_ , could ever topple.

 

Except here he was looking as fragile as Jongin felt.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t reply to his question. Instead he moved away into the kitchen and Jongin quickly followed. The back of Kyungsoo’s shirt was coloured dark from sweat like it was after a bad nightmare. Maybe Kyungsoo had slept after all. But...then Jongin had somehow slept through a nightmare bad enough for Kyungsoo to look like this. It couldn’t be. But the alternative seemed almost as bad.

 

“I’ve already tended to the cabbages.” Kyungsoo said, voice mechanical as if he knew Jongin didn’t like the weary note in it.

 

Jongin blinked, trying to process what Kyungsoo had said. The cabbages? Right! His cabbages. He rushed forward to the old kitchen and peaked out the door leading to the cabbage field. The intruders hadn’t destroyed his field, had they? They had come from the backdoor through the old kitchen when they entered the house. If they hadn’t been careful they could have very well trampled his cabbages. 

 

“My babies.” He breathed as his eyes landed on his unharmed field. The soil was dark with moisture, clearly watered just as Kyungsoo had said, and it looked like the other had also had time to weed. “Thank you.” He called back into the kitchen, moving back inside with a smile on his lips. At least the burglars hadn’t destroyed anything.

 

Kyungsoo blinked once, looking surprised before his lips hesitantly curled up into a small smile, his shoulders losing a little of their tenseness. Jongin felt himself start to relax as well, the tight ball in his chest unwinding a little. His smile widened, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear as Kyungsoo’s smile also widened.

 

Kyungsoo shifted, bringing a hand up to pull at his ear in a mimicry of Jongin’s gesture. Jongin felt his smile fall and his eyes widen as he took in the state of Kyungsoo’s hand. The back of it looked swollen, a deep bruised red colouring the whole of it. Angry red lines criss-crossed the skin, some of them clearly deep enough to have drawn blood. Jongin felt worry build inside of him as he looked toward Kyungsoo’s other hand, seeing it equally as bruised.

 

“Your hand.” He gasped, reaching out for it. He had barely begin moving before Kyungsoo flinched back, hiding his hands behind his back. Jongin took another step forward, feeling the worry turn into a lump at the back of his throat.

 

“Let me see.” He said, trying to sound commanding. It came out like a whisper.

 

Kyungsoo looked down on the floor, uncharacteristically hesitant as he slowly brought one of his hands out from behind his back. Jongin reached out again but just as before Kyungsoo quickly pulled his hand out of Jongin’s reach.

 

“Let me see.” Jongin begged, voice weak. Kyungsoo lifted his arm, showing the back of his hand but once again moving it out of reach when Jongin tried to grab it. Jongin tried to catch Kyungsoo’s eyes, tried to see what was going on inside of him, but Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him.

 

“Let me see.” Jongin mouthed, feeling tears build in his eyes. What had happened to make Kyungsoo act like this? What had happened to make him fear Jongin’s touch like this? Had he hurt him? Had Jongin caused this? What had broken the trust between them?

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Kyungsoo replied, still keeping himself out of reach from Jongin. Jongin frowned. Kyungsoo, this Kyungsoo, could never hurt him. Kyungsoo _had_ never hurt him...at least not willingly. He swallowed and the bruising around his neck smarted. Subconsciously he brought his hand up to touch it.

 

Kyungsoo took a step back, almost stumbling, and hid his hands again. Jongin froze, realizing what he had done and looked up, meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes.

 

What he saw there hurt his heart. Behind the lost look, behind the fear and the doubt, the distrust burned like wildfire. But it wasn’t a distrust toward Jongin. It was distrust toward Kyungsoo. Toward himself, his skill, his nothing-memories. It was a distrust toward what he became when he couldn’t control himself, when he panicked.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Jongin didn’t know how said it first but the echo of Kyungsoo apologizing for something he couldn’t control played over and over again in his head. He didn’t, couldn’t, hold what Kyungsoo had done against him. Just like he couldn’t hold what Kyungsoo had done in his past against him he couldn’t hold this against him. It would be wrong, because no matter what Kyungsoo did, to hurt anyone just seemed completely out of his character. The killing, or whatever he had done before, couldn’t have been natural. Kyungsoo wasn’t malicious. Kyungsoo wasn’t evil. He was kind, caring, resilient, hard working.

 

He couldn’t let Kyungsoo continue like this.

 

With newfound determination Jongin moved forward, cornering Kyungsoo against the kitchen wall as the other moved backwards. Jongin thrust his hand forward, pressing it against Kyungsoo’s chest and feeling the other’s erratic heart beat against his palm. It was beating faster than he could have ever guessed.

 

“Touch it.” He demanded, voice wavering.

 

Kyungsoo blinked, looking up at Jongin with frightened eyes. Jongin met the eyes, ignoring the shaking of his hands. Kyungsoo shook his head, his shoulders shifting as if he was pulling his hands further behind himself. Jongin pressed his hand harder against Kyungsoo’s chest, stepping closer. He could feel Kyungsoo’s breath against his cheek, forcibly calm.

 

“Touch it.” He begged, whispering. Please. Jongin didn’t know what he would do if Kyungsoo pulled away from him. He would be alone again, no one to support him, to hold him, to help him. He needed Kyungsoo. He needed his strength, needed his smiles, needed his gentleness.

 

“Please.” He mouthed, his head falling forward until his forehead touched Kyungsoo’s. “Please.” His fingers curled in the fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt, feeling the dampness of cold sweat. He could feel the other tremble, or was it Jongin himself? He didn’t know. He just wanted Kyungsoo to let him in, to give him his strength, to hold him. He moved forward, feeling Kyungsoo’s breath mingle with his own.

 

“Please.” He whispered against Kyungsoo’s lips, selfishly taking what he needed. It wasn’t a kiss for neither of them moved. Jongin felt the moment Kyungsoo stopped breathing, felt the trembling grow stronger as Jongin slowly, gently, ran his hand down Kyungsoo’s arm to firmly grasp his wrist.

 

“Touch me.” He whispered, pulling back and bringing Kyungsoo’s hand up to his cheek. It was cold, frail against him. He pressed it closer to himself, pressed himself closer to it. Kyungsoo didn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t. His eyes were screwed shut, teeth clenched so hard Jongin feared they would break.

 

“I trust you.” Jongin whispered and Kyungsoo’s chest jumped with the first sob. Slowly, Jongin let Kyungsoo’s hand trail down his cheek, running over his neck and the bruising there and further down his collarbones and chest until it rested over his heart.

 

He could feel Kyungsoo’s heartbeat under his hand and wondered if his own was equally as erratic. He let go of Kyungsoo’s shirt, pressing his free hand against Kyungsoo’s hand resting against his heart for a second before pulling out Kyungsoo’s other hand.

 

There was a moment where Kyungsoo held back, resisting Jongin’s movements, but another soft kiss let Jongin press his other hand against his chest. He could feel himself calm down, feel himself lean on Kyungsoo’s strength once more. No matter what had happened last night Jongin wasn’t going to let it take Kyungsoo away from him too. As long as he had Kyungsoo they could overcome everything.

 

“Come.” Jongin whispered, pressing his lips against a lone tear rolling down Kyungsoo’s cheek before pulling him along toward the bedroom. They needed rest, both of them. Kyungsoo stumbled as they walked, chest heaving as his hands held on to Jongin’s tightly enough to ache.

 

As they reached the bedroom Jongin slowly sat down on the futons, pulling Kyungsoo along with him. Slowly, so not to spook the other, he shifted Kyungsoo’s hands until they were resting in the curve of his waist. Kyungsoo’s grip was loose, weak, barely there and Jongin almost didn’t dare to let go in fear of Kyungsoo doing the same.

 

Carefully, his eyes locked with Kyungsoo’s shiny ones, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kyungsoo’s. This time Kyungsoo kissed back, hesitantly pressing himself closer to Jongin. The grip on his waist tightened and Jongin felt his heart speed up at the display of strength. His Kyungsoo, strength in his every movement, Jongin would not let him grow weak from this. He could survive this too. Jongin knew.

 

“Again.” He whispered as Kyungsoo pulled back, surging forward to capture those plump lips once more before Kyungsoo could react. They were salty from tears, rough from having been gnawed on for god knows how long but Jongin kissed them like a man drowning. He needed Kyungsoo. He needed every part of him and he _would not_ let Kyungsoo go.

 

Kyungsoo whimpered, his hands tightening against Jongin’s waist once more, solid, assured. They wouldn’t let go. Jongin moved closer, climbing up into Kyungsoo’s lap and letting his hands leave Kyungsoo’s to cup his face instead.

 

He kissed each tear as they ran down Kyungsoo’s cheeks, stopping them from forming tracks. Kyungsoo shook as he clung to Jongin, arms travelling up his back and pressing him closer. Jongin let him, his own hands cupping Kyungsoo’s cheeks with utmost care, gently but firmly holding him together as he broke apart.

 

“I don’t want to remember.” Kyungsoo whispered, opening his eyes and looking into Jongin’s. His voice was rough from tears and Jongin pressed another kiss against his lips, wanting to swallow the pained sounds that were escaping the other. “Every time I do, it’s awful. I’m awful.”

  
“You’re wonderful.” Jongin whispered, pulling back to meet Kyungsoo’s gaze again. There was nothing but fear in those eyes. Jongin wanted to exchange it for love. “You protect me. You’re strong for me. You make me feel happy, whole, complete, alive. You’re everything.”

 

He knew it was selfish, that he should be comforting Kyungsoo in a moment like this, but whenever Jongin looked at Kyungsoo all he could see was everything he could ever need. Kyungsoo was the one, his one. He hoped Kyungsoo could see that behind his words.

 

“I hurt everyone I touch. I’m a murderer. I almost killed you.” Kyungsoo whimpered, the reassuring pressure his hands had been putting on Jongin’s back moving away. Jongin quickly grabbed hold of his arms before they moved away.

 

“You’re touching me right now.” Jongin said, his own fingers tightening around Kyungsoo’s strong arms. “You’re not hurting me.” His voice was almost pleading. Kyungsoo’s frame jumped with new sobs, the smaller burying his face in Jongin’s chest. Jongin leaned back, pulling Kyungsoo down on top of himself as they laid down.

 

“Touch me.” He whispered, lips brushing Kyungsoo’s ear. He let his own hands run down Kyungsoo’s strong back, tracing a path between tense muscles. The fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt was still damp but Jongin was warm. His heat would chase away any remains of Kyungsoo’s nothing-memories.

 

As he reached Kyungsoo’s lower back his hands veered off toward his thin waist, hands fitting perfectly against the curve there before moving upwards again. He cupped Kyungsoo’s cheeks once more, gently lifting the other to make eye contact.

 

“I trust you.” He repeated, moving forwards to press another kiss against Kyungsoo’s lips. “Trust in my trust.”

 

Kyungsoo’s hands slowly, hesitantly, moved from where they had been clutched in the fabric of Jongin’s shirt. Feather light touches danced down his chest, back to his waist where they grabbed, weakly at first but then with more strength. Jongin gasped, never once breaking eye contact with Kyungsoo.

 

The other was staring into his soul, how own soul on display. He was sucking in everything he needed from Jongin, all the trust, and Jongin had never felt stronger than he did in that moment. Selfishly he drew that strength from Kyungsoo, his own hands leaving Kyungsoo’s still wet cheeks and stroking down his chest, flattening the fabric of his shirt before meeting the hem of his shorts.

 

A moment of stillness passed between them before Kyungsoo’s hands slid down Jongin’s own chest, rough fingertips resting against his abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. Jongin licked his lips, his own hands slipping under Kyungsoo’s shirt and circling his waist.

 

Kyungsoo’s hands did the same to him.

 

Jongin let them, arching his back to give Kyungsoo’s hands more space. His own hands slowly started inching upwards, pulling Kyungsoo’s shirt up with hem. He could feel the drag of his own shirt as Kyungsoo followed him. With a surge forward he sat up, kissing Kyungsoo and letting his hands travel from Kyungsoo’s sides to his back, fingers caressing soft skin and harsh scar tissue.

 

Kyungsoo gasped as he pulled back, pushing Jongin’s shirt further up, up, up until Jongin had to let go so Kyungsoo could pull it off of him. Feather light fingers returned, trailing like tear drops down his chest, curving around a nipple and circling his belly button before they came to a rest where they had once started against Jongin’s waist.

 

Kyungsoo met his eyes again. The fear almost gone. The love almost there. Jongin held his gaze, moving closer until their breaths were mingling together but neither of them wanting to move that last inch that would break eyecontact. He felt Kyungsoo inhale, felt the words before they ever left Kyungsoo’s chest.

 

“You’re beautiful.” He stole, selfishly. Because Kyungsoo was. Everything about him was beautiful. His eyes that shone brighter than any star, his body that was stronger than any force of nature, his heart that was larger than any universe.

 

A smile broke on Kyungsoo’s lips, his eyes closing in bliss as the smile grew, a few stray tears finding their way down his cheeks. Jongin felt his heart swell, felt his entire being fill from the inside and out with Kyungsoo’s strength. He caught the tears on his fingers before they could fall, hid them in his hands before pressing them against Kyungsoo’s chest, now gems of love.

 

Kyungsoo closed the distance, lips against lips, chest against chest, hearts against hearts. Jongin wrapped himself around Kyungsoo, deepening the kiss and groaning as Kyungsoo pressed himself impossibly closer.

 

Impatiently his hands pulled at the damp fabric still covering Kyungsoo, wanting to see more of the masterpiece that was the other. Kyungsoo pulled back for a fraction of a second, letting Jongin pull his shirt off, before putting a gentle but firm hand against Jongin’s chest and pushing him back against the mattress.

 

Jongin gasped as his eyes fell on Kyungsoo’s naked chest. There was a large bruise blooming against his side from where he had been hit during the fight, but what had him staring was the scar at the centre of the bruise. It was shaped like and explosion, a star reaching out with its many arms. He felt his fingers dance over it, feeling the smooth skin of the scar tissue and the rough lines connecting it to Kyungsoo’s tanned skin. It was a bullet wound, similar to the one on his arm, but to Jongin it was prettier than the most beautiful of nebulas.

 

There were other scars too, faint lines breaking the constellations of moles littering Kyungsoo’s chest. Small dots white like starts fanning across one of his shoulders. Jongin traced every single one of them, eyes wide as he took in the sight.

 

“You’re my universe.” He said, looking up at Kyungsoo who smiled again, more tears caught by Jongin’s hands and turned into gems. He sprinkled them across Kyungsoo’s body, letting Kyungsoo’s hands roam his own. They were braver now, almost electric against his skin and Jongin couldn’t help but gasp as Kyungsoo pressed his lips against his neck, kissing his love into the skin.

 

He wrapped his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist, pressing him close and groaning as his crotch rubbed against Kyungsoo’s. Above him Kyungsoo whimpered, lips leaving his neck as Kyungsoo braced himself against Jongin’s shoulder. The shorter rolled his hips, strong legs working as Jongin’s head fell back in a sigh.

 

There was a moment’s pause where Jongin held his breath before Kyungsoo repeated the movement, a groan escaping Jongin’s lips and drowning out the hitch in breath coming from Kyungsoo. It had been so long since someone touched him like this and the warm pool of arousal in his abdomen was quickly heating up, going on burning.

 

Kyungsoo rolled his hips again and Jongin could feel the other’s semi hard cock rub against his own. He bit back another groan, his hands stroking up Kyungsoo’s back, feeling the still tense muscles. With a frown he let his hands flow down, tracing Kyungsoo’s spine and landing on his backside. It was plump and plush, filling his hands easily and when Jongin gave it a squeeze Kyungsoo jerked forward.

 

He used his hands to guide Kyungsoo’s hips, rolling them harder, stronger, and Kyungsoo obeyed. He could feel Kyungsoo’s lips wet against his collar bones, his breath hot against his skin. The sensation had him moaning, demanding another thrust from Kyungsoo’s hips.

 

Kyungsoo’s lips suddenly left him as the other braced himself with a hand next to Jongin’s hand. His skin was flushed pink, his lips glistening and his eyes wide in innocence yet dark with lust in that contrastive way only Kyungsoo could be. Jongin heard himself gasp at the sight, feeling his heart swell and his guts fill with a swarm of butterflies. Kyungsoo was so...so...so...

  
“Perfect.” He mumbled, hands falling away from Kyungsoo’s backside to his hips. Kyungsoo smiled and Jongin feared his heart would burst from all the emotions inside of it. He laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet bedroom, and soon Kyungsoo’s chuckles joined. Jongin surged up, wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo and pulling him closer, closer, closer until Kyungsoo was almost one with him.

 

Kyungsoo let out a happy sound, wrapping his own arms around Jongin and burying his face in Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin sighed, pressing a kiss against Kyungsoo’s hair and pulling him down until they were laying down.

 

“I want you to touch me.” Jongin whispered. “I want you to know you could never hurt me. I want you to know I would never hurt you.” He let his hands travel up Kyungsoo’s back, feeling every inch. “I want to touch you until my touch is all you feel.”

 

He could hear Kyungsoo’s breath hitch in response, feel his arms tighten around him for a brief moment, before there was a barely there nod against his shoulder. Slowly, so not to trap any limbs between them, Jongin turned them over until Kyungsoo was laying under him. His chest was quickly rising and falling, his hands lying beside his head and his legs still loosely wrapped around Jongin’s waist.

 

There was a hint of fear in his eyes, of hesitation and nothing-memories, and Jongin quickly bent down to kiss the fear away. Kyungsoo kissed back, lips gentle, before Jongin moved down, letting his lips trace a path down Kyungsoo’s neck, collar bones, chest, belly button, until his lips reached the top of Kyungsoo’s shorts.

 

He placed one final kiss to the skin just above the waist band. He could feel the strong muscles in Kyungsoo’s abdomen tense as his fingers tickled the sensitive skin before hooking his thumbs around the elastics. He looked up, seeking approval before proceeding, and Kyungsoo’s wide eyes stared back at him. His cheeks were flushed, lips plumper than usual from kisses. His eyes were bright, no longer red and puffy, and in them Jongin saw trust.

 

He slowly started easing the fabric off of Kyungsoo, revealing smooth legs dusted with the remains of Kyungsoo’s nothing-memories. He kissed a scarred knee as it was revealed, pressing his lips against a bruised ankle, before letting his hands travel up Kyungsoo’s legs, feeling the strong thighs give way to a gentle push of his hands.

 

He repeated the motions with Kyungsoo’s boxers, gently sliding them down the soft legs before once again running his hands along the sunkissed skin. Kyungsoo parted his legs on his own this time, his semi hard cock laying curved to the side against his abdomen.

 

Jongin ignored it, instead following the path of his left hand with his lips, kissing a trail from the knee up the inside of Kyungsoo’s thighs. The skin was soft, untouched by the sun’s rays and milky white like the down of newborn ducklings. Jongin was careful not to leave a mark, not wanting more bruises to be added to his Kyungsoo despite these bruises being bruises of love.

 

As he reached the juncture of Kyungsoo’s hip he looked up, meeting the other’s eyes again, and felt his heart swell impossibly larger. In the dark orbs he saw all the love he felt reflected in his own eyes, all the happiness Kyungsoo gave him, all the strength he held and all the faith he felt in the other. He placed a kiss against the base of Kyungsoo’s cock, lips stretched wide as he struggled not to smile.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo gasped as he felt Jongin’s first touches to the sensitive flesh, the teasing fingertips and gentle kisses. Jongin pressed another kiss right below Kyungsoo’s belly button, right above the head of his cock, a hand firmly curling against the scarred hip. I’m here, he said silently. Trust me.

 

He slowly moved down, breath ghosting along the skin of Kyungsoo’s shaft before placing a kiss at the base. He licked his lips before repeating the kiss, letting it linger longer, applying more suction and hearing Kyungsoo’s breath hitch. With equal patience he ran his tongue up the cock before taking the head in his mouth.

 

Kyungsoo’s hip twitched under his hand but Jongin kept his grip firm, teasingly licking the head before letting it fall out of his mouth. He let a wet breath hit the moist skin, seeing the muscles of Kyungsoo’s abdomen work. Another smile before he once again ran his tongue up the cock, taking Kyungsoo an inch deeper this time.

 

He repeated the motion until he could feel Kyungsoo hitting the back of his throat. Slowly, teasingly, he pulled off until his lips were wrapped around the head in a mimicry of a kiss. He could hear the rustle of Kyungsoo’s legs as they moved, feel the strength in the muscles under his hand. He could see the first beads of sweat on Kyungsoo’s brow, the furrow of his eyebrows and the silent moan leaving his lips.

 

The other’s hands were twisting in the sheets, searching for something to hold on to. Jongin bobbed his head once, watching as Kyungsoo’s eyes flew open and his back arched for the shortest of moments.

 

“Soo.” He whispered, quiet words wrapping around the wet skin of Kyungsoo’s cockhead. Kyungsoo twitched before looking down, eyes wide, clear, open. Jongin held out a hand, wiggling his fingers as he waited for Kyungsoo to take it.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Kyungsoo’s hand uncurled from the sheets. The thin but strong fingers were cold against his own despite the heat in the room and Jongin couldn’t help but to place a gentle kiss to each and every one of them so to warm them up. He nuzzled his head into Kyungsoo’s palm before sliding it into his hair, holding it there as Kyungsoo tried to pull it free.

 

“I’ll hurt you.” Kyungsoo whispered, as if he was afraid of the words too.

 

“You could never.” Jongin replied with a small shake of his head.

 

A moment of stillness passed between them, neither of them moving, before Kyungsoo’s fingers slowly took hold of Jongin’s hair, careful and gentle, mindful of everything and calculating in their every move. Jongin repeated the same process with the other hand, coaxing Kyungsoo into giving him it before warming each finger with a kiss and letting it join the one in his hair.

 

The fingers curled against his scalp as Jongin took Kyungsoo’s cock into his mouth again, slowly working himself down the shaft. He pressed his tongue flat against the vein running up the underside of the other’s cock, rolling the muscle once, twice, before bobbing his head once more.

 

Slowly he worked up a rhythm, listening to the hands fisted in his hair as he moved. Kyungsoo was heavy in his mouth, his cock on the shorter but thicker side, just like Kyungsoo. He smelled heavy, solid, all encompassing. The precum was salty against Jongin’s tongue as he swirled it around the head of Kyungsoo’s cock, letting the wet muscle caress the sensitive skin and tease the opening at the top.

 

Kyungsoo responded to each of his touches, muscles moving in time with Jongin. One knee was pulled up and the foot was braced against Jongin’s shoulder while the other leg was held down by the firm hold Jongin had on his hip. Quiet breaths came in time with the bobbing of Jongin’s head, a silent prayer for Jongin to go faster, to tease him more, to touch him.

 

The hands in Jongin’s hair held him with the same strength as Kyungsoo’s arms did at night, when neither of them would acknowledge it. His fingers played against Jongin’s scalp like the most skilled piano player, and ode to love and trust, to the two of them and the words that neither of them said but both of them meant.

 

Kyungsoo trembled as he spilled in Jongin’s mouth, a dry sob escaping his lips, mixing with a moan. Jongin greedily swallowed him down, wanting to take all of him, every last drop, until they stopped being the two of them and became only Jongin and Kyungsoo. One, the same, all.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo breathed, word louder than a cry in the silent room, and Jongin released the cock from his mouth. His lips crashed against Kyungsoo’s a second later, swallowing the next moan, and the one after that. Kyungsoo’s legs tangled with his own, his hands pulling at Jongin’s hair as they kissed like men drowning.

 

“Touch me.” Jongin breathed as they separated for a moment. His cock was painfully hard, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies, and he could think of nothing better than to have Kyungsoo’s hand around him.

 

Hesitantly, Kyungsoo’s hand left Jongin’s hair, moving down between their bodies. Before he could reach the goal Jongin grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss against the inside of Kyungsoo’s wrist, cradling his cheek in the other’s palm, and let it go.

 

As he met Kyungsoo’s eyes again the other was smiling, lips the shape of a heart and his eyes nothing more than thin slits of happiness. His fingers were warm when they touched Jongin’s cock, curling around it with confidence. Jongin lifted his hips, getting up on his knees and pulling Kyungsoo’s legs up with him, ankles crossed and resting against the small of Jongin’s back.

 

Kyungsoo’s fingers were rough like those of a carpenter, strong and precise like the most skilled violinist. They danced over him, mapping him out as Jongin pressed another kiss against his lips. Kyungsoo’s thumb swirled over the head of his cock, making his hip twitch. Kyungsoo’s fingers tightened around his shaft, making him moan into Kyungsoo’s mouth.

 

With patience and gentleness mirroring Jongin’s Kyungsoo built up a rhythm, grip not to tight but not too loose as it moved over Jongin. He moaned, forcing himself to stay still as Kyungsoo picked him apart, lifting another layer away from him with each stroke until his heart was bared for the two of them, beating in sync with the pulse Jongin could feel in Kyungsoo’s fingertips as surely as if it was his own.

 

His lips pressed against Kyungsoo’s collarbones as the other worked him faster, fingers still tight but not tight enough around his cock. Jongin wanted to roll his hips, take control, wanted to take and take and take selfishly until he was satisfied. But he held himself back. Because Kyungsoo was more important, was more important than any of Jongin’s needs could ever be. More important than any selfish wish and egoistical desire. He was more important than Jongin himself, than the world, than the universe. He was his everything and his nothing. His night and his day. His strength and his weakness. His very own antonym in that way that only Kyungsoo could be.

 

His climax was as quiet as Kyungsoo’s, a tremble and a groan muffled against the tanned skin of Kyungsoo’s neck. But at the same time it was louder than anything Jongin had ever heard, felt, experienced. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath as Kyungsoo’s fingers tease up his cock one last time, mixing with the cum staining bot of their chests, before slowly, almost shyly in a way that would always make Jongin feel too large for his body and his love feel too small for what Kyungsoo deserved, they pressed against the heart shaped smile on Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

Jongin chased the fingers with a kiss, mingling his release between them until they truly were one and the same, a pair made to never separate. A universe of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the great response to the last chapter! It's such a joy to see so many enjoy this fic, it makes me feel really appreciated as a writer <3<3<3


	8. Near and Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slower chapter this time, but still important. The response you gave me on the last chapter is absolutely heart warming, thank you so much! <3 I hope you all will enjoy this chapter as well! :333

Grandfather Tam was a small man in his 80’s with a crooked back, powdery white hair and eyes as hard as those of an eagle. He carried himself with a dignity and a wisdom that only old age could bring. His car was an old green Jeep FC-150 from 1964, something he liked to remind anyone who would listen of.

 

When Jongin had phoned him that morning to ask if he and Kyungsoo could borrow the car for a drive up to Imsil and some grocery shopping Grandfather Tam had mentioned it no less than 3 times. And now that they were here, Jongin could already hear him explain to Kyungsoo how they don’t make cars like this nowadays and how he had bought it from and American soldier who moved here after the war. Jongin had heard the story more times than he cared to count.

 

“Here she is, my beauty.” Grandfather Tam begun in a growly voice, patting the car on the hood with a happy expression before he pointedly sent Kyungsoo a look. Kyungsoo, who still looked sleepy despite sleeping until almost 5 o’clock that morning, nodded stiffly. As usual he was weary around other people and Jongin would have wrapped an arm around his waist for comfort if he hadn’t known that Kyungsoo preferred not to be touched in moments like these.

 

Nothing had really changed since their night together a week ago. Jongin had known long before that that he loved Kyungsoo and he suspected Kyungsoo knew the same. There was no need for anything to change between them. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, long lost and finally finding their place next to each other. Kyungsoo’s hand fit perfectly against the small of his back when Jongin needed some more of his strength and Jongin’s hand fit perfectly around Kyungsoo’s as the other needed to chase the nothing-memories away.

 

The only change that had come from it was that now, whenever Kyungsoo got that lost look in his eyes, the tenseness of his shoulders and the scratching itch in his fingers, Jongin could take his hands, press them against his heart, and kiss the lost look away until Kyungsoo knew that what mattered was here, now, with them. What had happened before was another life, another time, and another Kyungsoo. Not the one who stood before him now, strong, steady and full of love. Whoever the Kyungsoo that lived in his nothing-memories was it didn’t have to be the Kyungsoo that existed now. Jongin wouldn’t let the old Kyungsoo win.

 

“I bought her from an American.” Grandfather Tam continued, still stroking the hood of the car with fondness in his old eyes. “He was a soldier, moved here after the war.” He took a step closer to Kyungsoo, eyes shining proudly. “I got a good deal for such a beauty like this. She still purrs like a kitten.”

 

Jongin made a noise of agreement, not at all listening. He was busy putting away a jar of kimchi they had brought with them as a thank you for being allowed to borrow the car. A jar from last year’s autumn harvest stood empty in the cold storage waiting to be picked up and returned. Jongin grabbed it and brought it over to the car so he could reuse it for their next batch of kimchi just in time to hear Grandfather Tam inform Kyungsoo that:

 

“They don’t make them like this anymore. Did I tell you the car is from 1964? Imagine that boy. I’m sure you have never heard of anything that old before. City folk like you don’t know how to appreciate the old. It’s always moving on to the new with you all. All your ‘eye-phones’ and ‘blueberry phones’ and whatever they call those things. What’s wrong with the land line? Back in my youth that was fancy you see. I couldn’t even dream of having an ‘eye-phone’. You hear that boy?”

 

“Um, we- uh.” Jongin tried to interject, gesturing towards the car and the general direction of Imsil. Now that he had collected the jar they were ready to go and Jongin would like to get there before people really started moving about. He wasn’t too fond of large groups of people. He tried interrupting again but Grandfather Tam just continued talking, pointing out a dent in the chassis that he had gotten 20 years prior because of some ‘city folk’ and their reckless driving. Kyungsoo nodded tiredly next to him.

 

“You give good advice Grandfather.” Kyungsoo spoke politely, effectively cutting off the old man’s ramblings. “Jongin and I will be sure to follow them on our ride to Imsil.” He continued, bowing to the old man before opening the car door closest to him and creating a barrier between himself and Grandfather Tam.

 

“Oh, well. Yes, yes you should.” Grandfather Tam said, nodding to himself and not at all seeming to mind the abrupt end to the conversation. Jongin followed Kyungsoo’s example and quickly pulled the door open and climbed into the driver’s seat. The seats were worn down to the point where Jongin was sure he was sitting more on the springs than the actual stuffing. He looked over at Kyungsoo, seeing the other shift in his seat and knowing he was faced with the same predicament.

 

“Don’t forget to double clutch now my boy.” Grandfather Tam’s voice made Jongin tear his eyes away from Kyungsoo. The old man had moved to stand outside his window now, one hand curled around the car door. “And no taking her above 60 km/h young man. She’s not some sort of race car.” The old man continued and Jongin nodded quickly, repeating the words to show he had listened.

 

“Thank you for letting us borrow her.” Kyungsoo said, leaning over into Jongin’s space. He had his hand placed on Jongin’s thigh to brace himself and the same smile on his lips that he always had whenever he talked to the people in the village, the one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should go rest Grandfather, it will be a hot day today.” He suggested and Grandfather Tam nodded.

 

“He’s a good boy that city boy. Jongin, you should take a leaf out of his book and there might finally become something of you.” The old man said before turning to slowly walk back inside his house. Jongin swallowed, gripping the wheel in sweaty hands. He liked Grandfather Tam, he really did, but just like his grandmother had always used to say, he was a man stuck in the past.

 

“Thank you.” Jongin whispered, looking down at Kyungsoo who met his eyes for a short moment. There were dark circles under his wide eyes but energy in them. Kyungsoo gave his thigh a squeeze before sitting back into his seat.

 

With a sharp twist of his wrist Jongin turned the key. The car started coughing under them, the starter struggling hard to get the car going. Slowly, so not to stall the car or flood the engine, Jongin pressed down on the gas. A loud roar erupted between them as the engine came to life. The entire car started slowly vibrating, the distinct smell of gasoline that always came with riding in Grandfather Tam’s car mixing with the air around them.

 

“Purrs like a kitten.” Jongin commented sarcastically over the rumbling sound of the engine. He gave it some gas, hearing the engine struggle, and looked over at Kyungsoo. The other was smiling broadly, eyes thin slits as he nodded at Jongin’s remark.

 

Slowly, once again careful of stalling the old car, Jongin drove them out of the garage and down the small dirt road leading toward the larger roads. The drive to Imsil would take them almost an hour and the way there consisted mostly of a road so old the tarmac was practically gravel at this point. It was the only way there though, unless you wanted to take a detour to the larger bypass roads but that would mean spending an extra 20 minutes in the car. Jongin wasn’t too keen on that.

 

The scenery rolled past them as they drove, the Kangs in their fields waving at them as they passed by and Officer Park passing them on her bike. She was probably heading down into the village to keep watch of things now that the tourist season had arrived in earnest. The tourists always had something or another to comment on about their stay at the little village and while all of the villagers understood the benefit of the tourists, far from all of them actually liked having them here.

 

The police officer had been by last night to hand over the police report and information Jongin needed to make a claim with his insurance company. She had explained that the Gwangju police had contacted them and been by to pick the intruders up. Apparently, they had been involved with a gang that were conducting break ins in most of the larger cities. She had also informed him that the police wanted to extend their thanks to Kyungsoo for aiding in capturing them.

 

Jongin had wanted to ask Kyungsoo about his thoughts on the matter, and if maybe Kyungsoo had belonged to the same gang as them before all of this. After all, it would explain why they had targeted Jongin’s house. But he hadn’t been able to figure out a good way to bring up the question, especially not when Kyungsoo seemed on edge after Officer Park’s visit.

 

Luckily, Kyungsoo had brought up the question himself. He must have sensed Jongin wanting to talk about it because he explained how he couldn’t have been a part of a gang like that. First of all, the way they behaved spoke nothing of familiarity between them and Kyungsoo. Secondly, Kyungsoo was much more skilled than them, speaking of years of training that were not needed for simple break ins. Thirdly, burglars didn’t kill. They were in it to get a quick buck or two and weren’t equipped with dealing with a life or death situation, such as the one Kyungsoo had put them all in.

 

Jongin had stopped Kyungsoo at that point, took his twitching hands and gently kissed them before pressing his lips against Kyungsoo’s forehead. It hadn’t been time for those thoughts then. Things that belonged in the past should stay in the past. The Kyungsoo who had been standing before him then were the only Kyungsoo that mattered. _He_ was the Kyungsoo he loved no matter what the past Kyungsoo might have done.

 

Kyungsoo had called him stupid, telling him you couldn’t separate someone’s past from themselves but Jongin was selfish in that way. He could and he would. He believed that people could change, that stories didn’t have to turn out a certain way just because they had begun a certain way. He believed in Kyungsoo, the kindness in his heart and the gentleness in his touches. He believed in the firmness in his resolve and the desire to help.

 

Jongin looked over to his side, seeing Kyungsoo sleepily blink a few times before his head fell forwards. The next second it jerked back up, eyes wide as the other got his bearings around himself again. Jongin let go of the wheel with his right hand for a short moment, placing his hand in the upturned palm that was resting on Kyungsoo’s leg.

 

“Sleepy?” He asked, giving the hand a squeeze. Kyungsoo turned his head to look at him, eyes once again struggling to stay open.

 

“Yeah.” He breathed, giving Jongin’s hand a small squeeze. His lips quirked up into a small smile before he yawned long and hard.

 

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Jongin said, returning the smile.

 

“It’s fine. I’ll keep you company.” Kyungsoo replied with a small shake of his head, eyes blinking tiredly again. He really couldn’t have slept much at all last night for him to be this tired. Jongin wished, not for the first time, that he could just chase away the nothing-memories once and for all, make sure they couldn’t haunt Kyungsoo with flashes of events and knowledge he couldn’t account for anymore.

 

“Sleep.” Jongin said again, teasingly pushing Kyungsoo back in his seat. The other let him, sighing as his head hit the headrest. He sent Jongin another smile, Jongin knew this one meant thank you, and relaxed back into the seat.

 

By the time Jongin turned off to the main road toward Imsil five minutes later Kyungsoo was fast asleep. Jongin sped up but stayed true to his promise of not going above 60 km/h. It wasn’t like the car could handle speeds higher than that anyway. Whenever he would accelerate a little too hard or quickly the car would complain, groaning and coughing under him until he once more slowed down a pace the car was used to.

 

Once the car was finally steadily going down the road, the trees and empty fields passing them by, Jongin relaxed back into his seat. It was starting to grow uncomfortable but by now they were almost halfway there. At least the constant bumping and rattling of gravel roads would stop soon and then once they got closer to Imsil the roads would turn into smooth paved roads.

 

The trip to Imsil was one he made around every three months or so. It was to stock up on the essentials that he couldn’t find in the small grocery store in Yukgye-ri, or that the Imsil store carried in bulk containers. Such as meats to freeze, dry produce that could last more or less forever, and shampoos and cleaning products that were better than the basic supply at the small grocer’s in town.

 

He also liked to look through the small clothing department of the store and sometimes found a nice shirt or two or some new good work pants. Kyungsoo would need to pick out some things for himself while they were there. He didn’t mind the other wearing his clothes, he looked cute and homely in the, for him, oversized shirts, but because of it they had to do laundry so often because they kept running out of clothes.

 

Half of the one million won they had found in Kyungsoo’s bag when he first found the other was carefully stored away in Jongin’s wallet and ready to be spent on clothes and the like. He also hoped to maybe spend some money on some new skincare as well. He had seen IU endorse a new sun stick on tv a few days ago and had decided he wanted to try it.

 

He also hoped that if the trip went well, and Kyungsoo liked Imsil, maybe they could return together sometime. Not for grocery shopping but for maybe a restaurant visit, or to see one of the movies advertised on tv. A date of some sort. There weren’t really anywhere to do such a thing in Yukgye-ri but from what Jongin remembered of his childhood Imsil had quite a few restaurants and some karaoke bars and the like.

 

He looked out of the window, seeing a small white bunny jump along the roadside and quickly reached out toward Kyungsoo, ready to tell the smaller to look. He placed a hand on the other’s chest, feeling the warm rays of the sun, and looked over at him.

 

Kyungsoo was soundly asleep, head tipped back and mouth open as he breathed slowly. He had slid down in his seat from how relaxed he was and Jongin slowly withdrew his hand, not wanting to wake the other. He looked so peaceful, so at ease, like nothing could ever bother him again.

 

Jongin had seen Kyungsoo asleep before, or at least he thought so. Now he wasn’t too sure anymore. Whenever Jongin would look over at Kyungsoo during the night the other looked nothing like this. He would have his eyes closed, of course, and Jongin had always thought he looked relaxed but compared to now the sleeping Kyungsoo of his memories was anything but relaxed.

 

He suddenly wondered how much sleep Kyungsoo actually got. He would often fall asleep after Jongin had fallen asleep, that much he knew, and he was almost always awake before Jongin woke up. But even the rare times Jongin woke up in the middle of the night and looked over had Kyungsoo been awake then too? Even if he hadn’t, the sleep he was getting couldn’t be good if this was what he looked like sleeping deeply. No wonder the dark circles under his eyes never truly left.

 

Jongin gently stroked down Kyungsoo’s arm, feeling the slow beating of his heart in his wrist. His grandmother had always said that people were their true selves in their sleep, their masks and pretences gone and only their true core on display.

 

As Jongin looked at Kyungsoo he couldn’t help but agree. There was nothing of the harshness Kyungsoo feared in himself to be found in the Kyungsoo Jongin saw right now. Only soft curves and calmness. The Kyungsoo he saw was friendly, open and ready to help with whatever you asked of him. There was an aura of experience around him, of kind confidence and a caring firmness. Jongin saw everything he knew Kyungsoo to be.

 

With one final rub of his thumb over the scabs on Kyungsoo’s hand Jongin turned back to the road, ready to let Kyungsoo sleep for as long as he needed.

 

Once they were parked in front of the store Jongin took a moment to look around, giving Kyungsoo a few more minutes of precious sleep. It was 9AM on a Thursday and they were almost alone in the parking lot. There were some teenagers in school uniform, obviously cutting class, sitting on the bike stands outside the store with snacks in their hands, and a stressed office worker rushing toward his car with a ready-made lunch in his hands. A senior couple slowly walked toward the entrance with the cart, both of them dressed in nothing but beige and with backs so crooked they were almost resting their chins on the handle of the cart.

 

Jongin squeezed the wheel, taking a slow breath and looking over towards Kyungsoo again. He was still sleeping, a dribble of drool having escaped from the side of his mouth and dried on his chin. Jongin smiled, giving the wheel another squeeze before deciding he should go get a cart before waking up Kyungsoo.

 

With a sharp inhale Kyungsoo’s head shot up from where it had been resting against his shoulder. His large eyes blinked, looking around the car for a confused moment before they settled on the grocery store, then Jongin, and finally the store again.

 

“We’re here.” He said, voice rough from sleep. Jongin couldn’t hold back a smile. He reached over and rubbed away the crusted drool from Kyungsoo’s chin.

 

“We’re here.” He confirmed, letting his thumb linger against Kyungsoo’s bottom lip for a moment longer before pulling back. “Slept well?”

 

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo nodded, blinking rapidly once more before yawning. His cheeks were puffy from sleep and his eyes small and squinted. He looked so gentle, more like a small child waking up from their nap than an adult able to kill you in the blink of an eye. Jongin wished he could reach over and place a kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips in that moment, but he didn’t dare to trust the people of Imsil to be as overlooking of their genders as the Chois were.

 

“Ready?” Jongin asked, grabbing hold of the door handle. Kyungsoo rolled his shoulders and wet his lips before the same guarded look that always followed him out in public settled into his eyes. At once the gentleness was replaced with indifference, walls and walls of protection rising around Kyungsoo in a matter of seconds.

 

“Let’s go.” Kyungsoo said, jumping out of the car and heading off toward the shopping carts.

 

The inside of the store was even emptier than the outside. There was only one lane open, the cashier greeting them with a sleepy ‘welcome’ as they entered, and the rest of the staff seemed to be occupied with restocking the store. The elderly couple Jongin had spotted earlier were standing by the clothes, discussing a pair of beige pants.

 

Jongin had a small shopping list he had prepared beforehand in his hands and quickly gestured to Kyungsoo driving the cart next to him that they would start with the clothes. Slowly they looked through the options, there weren’t many, before settling on a pair of jeans, a packet of T-shirts and a sweater for Kyungsoo. The shorter refused to try them on, not offering an explanation but Jongin could read from the set of his shoulders that he didn’t feel comfortable doing so. Jongin could image why, he too always felt unsafe behind the thin curtains of the changing booths.

 

Instead they continued deeper into the store. Kyungsoo’s hands were tight around the handle of the cart, his eyes quickly but attentively scanning the store. Jongin tried to follow the eyes for a moment but quickly got overwhelmed by the quick jumps of his gaze. He gave up and settled on just finding the aisles containing the dry produce.

 

With the same systematic method as he tackled every other task Kyungsoo set about gathering the groceries, organizing them in neat rows in the cart. Jongin collected some of his own, picking out a few extra bags of ramyeon noodles and a package of dried mango as he came across them. He handed them all over to Kyungsoo, not wanting to mess up the organization system the other had going.

 

As he handed over the last package of pasta he caught Kyungsoo’s hand in his, making the other meet his eyes. The lost look was creeping along the edges and there was a fine tremor in his hands. Jongin ran his thumb over the scratches in a silent question.

 

“Too many hiding places.” Kyungsoo answered, eyes flicking behind Jongin towards the wall dividing theirs and the next aisle over. Jongin took the pasta package from his grasp, setting it down in the cart on top of one of the same label.

 

“No one hides in a grocery store.” He said, turning Kyungsoo’s hand over in his and tracing the scar running up his thumb. Kyungsoo’s lips quirked up for a short moment, his eyes meeting Jongin’s again. The lost look was retreating.

 

“I know...” Kyungsoo sighed, licking his lips. His hand twitched in Jongin’s grasp. “I know.” He sounded like he was convincing himself more than Jongin but Jongin chose not to comment on that. Instead he turned Kyungsoo’s hand over once more, tracing the scratches with a gentle finger.

 

“I’ll help you keep an eye out for hiders.” Jongin promised and Kyungsoo looked down, a smile playing on his lips, the tips of his ears turning red for a moment.

 

“You don’t have to. I’m being stupid. It’s not even real.” Kyungsoo said with a small laugh, shaking his head.  Jongin felt a small smile pull at the corner of his lips and squeezed the hand still in his grasp.

 

“It sounds real to me.” He said. Kyungsoo quickly licked his lips, his eyes closing for a long moment before Jongin felt his hand firmly return the squeeze, a quiet thank you. When he opened his eyes again Jongin could see the gentleness hiding behind the pupils, a gentleness aimed at Jongin only.

 

“Come on, cereal’s next.” Jongin said, pulling Kyungsoo’s hand in the direction of the aisle. Kyungsoo let out a short laugh before the guarded look came over him again. His eyes were steadier this time around though, merely surveying the area in front of them and lingering for a second or two on the people they happened to pass.

 

Jongin made them veer off toward the bakery aisle first, realizing he was running short on both rice flour and wheat flour. And that he should probably make sure to have sugars and panko at home in case Kyungsoo wanted to cook something. He liked sweet and fried food.

 

He had Kyungsoo picking out what he thought he might need, enjoying the homely feeling it provided him to watch the other pick out groceries. Kyungsoo had the peculiar habit of reaching out and squeezing the packaging of every item he was considering. His fingers would dance over the labels, prodding, feeling, testing, until he found the sugar pack that was just right or the brand of sesame seeds that he wanted.

 

Jongin let him take the time he needed. He suspected it had to do with Kyungsoo’s need to keep his hands occupied whenever he felt stressed or nervous. It was kind of cute in a way, reminding him of the Aunties and Grandmothers at the stands in the village and how they would test every vegetable before picking out the ones they wanted. It spoke of the care Kyungsoo took in his decisions.

 

They continued on to the cereal aisle next and Kyungsoo stopped him from picking out only cereal ‘made of pure sugar crystals’, which was the only negative things about this grocery trip. Jongin liked his Oreo cereals, and he only ate them on special occasions anyhow so the sugar content didn’t really matter to him. He still got to pick out two packs of them though. The third one Kyungsoo picked out, choosing a pack of healthy looking brown flakes from the top shelf. He had to stretch to his tiptoes to reach it and Jongin would eat nothing but the healthiest of cereals if it meant he got to see that sight again.

 

The rest of the grocery run continued in a similar fashion, Jongin guiding the way and Kyungsoo keeping their cart organized. The more time that passed the more nervous Jongin could see Kyungsoo getting. It didn’t sit well with him. He tried to make the rest of the run as quick as possible, almost deciding to skip out on picking up that sun stick he had seen IU advertise on tv. Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him though, instead steering the cart over to the hygiene products and helping Jongin locate it.

 

Their final stop was by the snacks and drink area, having decided they should pick out something for the road home. Kyungsoo quickly picked out an egg and mayo kimbap for himself and moved to survey the drinks while Jongin internally debated on whether he should have the cheese or the tuna kimbap. He pursed his lips in though, eyes flickering between the two choices.

 

“There is a cheese and tuna one left. Behind the spicy one.” Kyungsoo pointed out to him, gesturing towards the kimbap he was talking about with his drink, an iced coffee of some sorts. Jongin looked to where he was pointing and sure enough, hidden behind the spicy kimbaps lay a sole cheese and tuna kimbap.

 

Jongin reached out, fingers almost around the snack, when the loud bang of a hundred jars shattering at the same time filled the store. He jumped, jerking around to face the sound. A loud curse rung out before Jongin’s eyes finally landed on an employee crouched down some twenty meters away, a mountain of broken pickled radishes in front of her.

 

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest from the shock, his muscles tense and his neck hurting from how quickly he had whipped around. The rest of the store seemed to have stopped as well, people frozen where they had been when the large display stand had tipped. Finally, another employee came rushing over, hurriedly telling in the other in hushed tones were the cleaning supplies were.

 

Jongin sighed, turning around to grab his kimbap so they could leave, and noticed Kyungsoo. The other was still frozen, every muscle tense. His shoulders were hunched and his knees were bent, braced firmly against the ground as if he were ready to run away at any second. Jongin could hear his laboured breathing from where he was standing, a meter and a half away. Short gasping breaths that made his entire frame tremble.

 

His right hand, the one he had held the drink in, was stretched out protectively in front of Jongin, the drink rolling slowly across the floor. His other hand was held up in front of his chest, the kimbap in his hand crushed to the point where the packaging had burst open and a large glob of mayo had fallen on the ground.

 

Jongin let out a silent curse of his own, almost reaching out for Kyungsoo before realizing that that was probably the worst thing he could do. Instead walked around the other, trying to keep his movements slow and predictable so to not spook him further. His heart had started hammering in his chest once more, beating hard enough for it to hurt.

 

“Kyungsoo?” he said quietly, casting a look around them to see if anyone was watching. “You okay?” He asked, trying to catch Kyungsoo’s flickering gaze. The other had straightened up somewhat, right arm no long held out to the side. He was still shaking though, looking ready to run at any moment, and his jaw was clenched so hard Jongin feared he might break his teeth. In his eyes the lost look was mixing with panicked anger.

 

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin tried again, slightly louder this time. He reached out for the hand still holding the kimbap, shaking so badly it looked like it was vibrating. Slowly, oh so slowly, he wrapped his hands around the hand. The skin was clammy and cold as he touched it but once Jongin had ran his thumb over the back of Kyungsoo’s hand the other let him bring it closer to himself. Gently, but firmly, Jongin peeled each finger away until he could free the crushed kimbap package, laying it back down in the snack cooler.

 

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo breathed, the noise not much more than a hitch of breath. Jongin looked up, meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. A swirl of fear and doubt were mixing with the lostness in his dark irises.

 

“Did I hurt anyone?” He asked as if he was afraid to know the answer.

 

Jongin shook his head no and Kyungsoo let out a breath so deep his entire frame wobbled for a second. Jongin wished he could take him in his arms, could hold him until he was okay, could kiss his fear away. He wished he had time to clean Kyungsoo’s palms, to massage each of his fingers so they could finally relax. He wished he could pause time, give Kyungsoo everything he needed, create a small universe of them until they were both okay.

 

But he couldn’t, because people were starting to notice them and Jongin knew how much they both hated the attention of strangers. A few meters away from them a woman asked her friend if him and Kyungsoo were okay in hushed tones and Jongin could feel the cold sweat start beading on his neck as well. If he were to help Kyungsoo, if he were to make this all okay again, he needed to get them away from here before even more people noticed them.

 

“Let’s go to the car, let’s get out of here.” He said to Kyungsoo, squeezing his hand to make sure the other focused for him for long enough to hear. Kyungsoo gave a sharp nod, mechanically letting go of Jongin’s hands and picking up his drink that had fallen on the floor. Jongin sprang into action, grabbing Kyungsoo a new tuna mayo kimbap and his own cheese and tuna one and placing them in the cart. Guilt stabbed at his insides over leaving the crushed one disregarded in a corner but the building anxiety was stronger.

 

Kyungsoo had grabbed the cart, every motion looking forced and stiff, and Jongin quickly reached out for the nearest drink, a strawberry milk, and threw it into the car before steering them both towards the check out. He didn’t like the way Kyungsoo was moving, the robot-like quality to his steps and the way his breathing was still coming in short pants. He wanted to get them both someplace safe, someplace Kyungsoo could relax, could let down the guards, could transform into the gentle man with rounded edges and happy smiles that Jongin had come to know. That Kyungsoo didn’t fear hurting anyone, that Kyungsoo didn’t fear his nothing-memories, that Kyungsoo could be strong enough to chase away Jongin’s anxiety as well.

 

In a haze of worry Jongin managed to check them out, keep an eye on Kyungsoo to see he wasn’t passing out from the erratic breathing, and weakly smile at the cashier to she wouldn’t grow too suspicious. His hands trembled as he handed over the 50 000 won bills and for a moment that lasted an eternity he feared the cashier would ask him where he had gotten the money from. But she just sent him another bored look, confirming she had gotten the money in a monotone voice before handing over his change with an equally monotone voice. The look she sent him as his sweaty hands grabbed the change pierced his heart though, making him feel weak and useless. 

 

He looked away, stuffing the money blindingly into his wallet before placing a gentle hand on Kyungsoo’s back, drawing strength in the breathing that was slowly slowing down. If Kyungsoo were calming down, if Kyungsoo were showing signs of being okay, then Jongin would be okay too.

 

They carried the bags to the car in one trip, Kyungsoo taking most of them. The set of his shoulders were speaking of restlessness and the look in his eyes were telling Jongin that the nothing-memories were still haunting him. Jongin watched him nervously as Kyungsoo rearranged the bags three times over on the bed of the pick-up truck before jumping down and clasping the latch to close it with enough force to turn his knuckles white.

 

Jongin hovered behind him, afraid to touch but wanting to comfort. The parking lot was thankfully deserted but Jongin still couldn’t entirely let go of the stares they had received in the store and how anyone of them could walk out here at any moment, approach them, and ask what the fuck Jongin was doing. Why wasn’t he able to help Kyungsoo better? Why wasn’t he stronger? Why couldn’t he get the situation back under control?

 

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of whispering, and when he looked up he could see Kyungsoo’s mouth moving as his eyes darted between a bush in the distance and another car in the parking lot.

 

“-watching you, they’re always watching, they’re always there, they know everything, they’re keeping you under check, don’t step out of line, your mission is clear, stay within the lines, they’re watching you, always watching, always listening, must stay within the lines, can’t hide from them, always watching-” He muttered, eyes seeming to zero in on the bushes.

 

“Kyungsoo”? Jongin asked, starting to grow worried over the mumbling. He looked over toward the bush, seeing nothing. It was small and he couldn’t really see how anyone could hide behind it, but Kyungsoo knew so much more than him. If he thought someone was there...

 

Kyungsoo jerked up, looking disoriented. Jongin flinched at the sudden movement, tearing his eyes from the bush to look at Kyungsoo. The other was looking at him with nothing but questions in his eyes.

 

“Who’s watching?” Jongin blurted out, watching as Kyungsoo frowned deeply at the question and pressed a hand against his temple.

 

“I-I don’t know. I thought- I?” He forced out, smacking the side of his head with enough force that Jongin had to reach out and grab his hand to stop Kyungsoo from hurting himself. Kyungsoo jerked away before looking up at Jongin like a lost child.

 

“I can’t remember.” Kyungsoo said, his voice thick and Jongin brought the other’s hand to his chest, letting it rest above his heart. It helped Jongin calm down as much as he hoped it would do for Kyungsoo. “Jongin I can’t remember. For a moment it was so clear but then- It’s gone and I-I-I?”

 

Jongin took a step closer, resting his forehead against Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo’s breath came out in a shudder against his cheek. Jongin tried to keep his own breathing steady, for Kyungsoo. He swallowed, closing his eyes and searching for the right words to say. He reminded himself of his stupid plan, his plan to love and forgive, to help and support, unconditionally.

 

“You said something about someone watching you.” He said, opening his eyes again. He felt Kyungsoo nod minutely against his head

  
“They.” He confirmed and Jongin nodded in return.

 

“By the bush.” He added and in sync both of them turned their head towards the plant. Jongin could feel Kyungsoo’s hand curl around his shirt as the other regarded the area around the bush.

 

Suddenly a branch moved and Jongin’s body froze, the hushed mumblings repeating themselves in his head like the sound of thunderclaps, sudden and devastating. But then a small white bunny jumped out from the bush, tail moving up and down in a small wave as it took a few leaping steps forward.

 

“It’s nothing.” Jongin breathed, relieved. “It’s just the nothing-memories.” He said to Kyungsoo, letting his lips ghost over the other’s temple where the hand now pressed against Jongin’s chest had impacted only moments before. “You’re here, you’re safe. Now is what matters, this is who you are.” He reminded Kyungsoo in gentle whispers.

 

Kyungsoo nodded, hand once more relaxing against Jongin’s chest.

 

“It’s nothing.” He repeated and Jongin nodded. “It’s nothing. I’m here. I’m now. I’m this. It’s nothing.” Kyungsoo whispered between shallow breaths before inhaling sharply, holding it for a few seconds, and slowly letting it out through his nose.

 

When he met Jongin’s eyes next Jongin could see the lost look slowly retreat from his eyes. Jongin held his gaze for a moment longer, forehead still pressed against the other’s, before they separated. Together they closed and latched the bed of the pick-up truck before getting into the car once more.

 

It took a few tries to get the car running again but when it did Jongin made sure to quickly maneuverer them out of the parking lot and to the road leading back to Yukgye-ri, back to home. He didn’t feel ready to face anyone back at home though, not yet. He was still shaken from everything that had happened and when he looked over at Kyungsoo he could see that the other was wringing his hands together, clearly still shaken.

  
“Wanna have a picnic?” Jongin asked, forcing the car into third gear as they hit the gravel road connecting the outskirts of Imsil and Yukgye-ri.

 

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, voice strained as he looked over at Jongin.

 

“Picnic? My mom and dad used to take me hiking to this hill when I was young. It should be here sometime.” Jongin clarified, gesturing out the window toward the open fields. He always felt better when he got to be out in the nature, which was why he spent so much time with his cabbages. He hoped Kyungsoo would feel the same.

 

He looked back at the other, seeing Kyungsoo look up at him with a smile, a weak and barely there smile but a smile none the same.

 

“Convenience store kimbap picnic?”  He asked and Jongin nodded, smiling in return.

 

Ten minutes later Jongin had found the hill and parked the car by the side of the road. Kyungsoo’s immaculate organization skills made sure the kimbaps and drinks were easy to find and with a little struggling over the tall fence leading into the field they made their way to the picnic spot at the top of the hill.

 

They didn’t speak as they ate, they didn’t need too. Instead they sat in silence, Kyungsoo resting against Jongin’s chest and Jongin making sure to run his thumb over the back of Kyungsoo’s hand. It calmed their erratic hearts, evened out their breathing and made them feel real again.

 

The only sign of civilization they could see around them was an old abandoned house out in one of the distant fields and like this, they could almost imagine they were the only people here, a small universe of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Silent Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter! This chapter was the one that went through the most editing. I almost rewrote all of it before I felt happy with how it turned out. I hope you all will like it! :3
> 
> I do have something important to say though. As those of you who follow me on twitter have surely noticed, I'm going through a little bit of a writer's block right now. To try an not fall too deep into the block I'm going to take a few days off of writing, which means the next chapter will be delayed a little. As mentioned previously, this fic is already finished and is just waiting for its last round of editing but I will need a little bit longer with this chapter's editing than usual. So instead of the usual week expect the next chapter to be up in maybe 10-12 days instead. I'm sorry it has to be like this :< Buuuut! the last chapter is over 10k so it will be worth the wait! :3

The smell of spices hung in the air, clinging to Jongin’s skin and teasing his taste buds. In front of him were the large kimchi making tub, the spice mix almost used up by now. His gloved wrists were caked with the dried remains of the mixture, as well as his apron and the tarpaulin covering the floor. Jars of already made kimchi were standing off to the side, waiting to be carried out to the shed where they would be stored and fermented for the next few weeks and months.

 

They still had half a box of cabbages to coat, the box standing between Jongin and Kyungsoo as the two of them worked on finishing up the second batch of the summer. Just like last time the heads were neatly cut and stacked inside the plastic container, and just like last time Kyungsoo had helped prepare them. Kyungsoo had also helped with the preparation of the kimchi batter this time around, carefully weighing out the spices and helping to mix it all together in the large tub.

 

Kyungsoo’s dark eyes were focused on the task at hand, his hands methodical in every movement. Jongin loved watching him work. His nimble but strong fingers flipped another leaf over and Kyungsoo reached out, scooping up some more of the mixture before starting to apply it to the cabbage leaves. His left hand delicately held the vegetable as his right worked in small but quick circles. Another flip of a leaf, another quick session of circles, another cabbage done.

 

That was the way it had been for the last few hours. They had started early in the day, as always, but with Kyungsoo helping him along with every step of the way Jongin was surprised over how quickly they would be done. The clock was showing just a few minutes after two in the afternoon and if they kept up this pace Jongin guessed they would have no more than an hour’s work ahead of them.

 

They had worked mostly in silence this time. In the beginning Jongin had shared stories, just like his grandmother had used to do, but soon found himself retelling the same stories she had told him of her youth. Particularly the one about how she learned how to swim the summer when she turned 7. It had taken place in the creek about an hour’s walk from here and Jongin had retold, with the same painting words as his grandmother before, how she had circled the now rotten bridge over and over again, always keeping a hand on the wood and not daring to let go in case she sank. It was a favourite of his, and the few times he had visited the creek he could always imagine the small girl swimming lap after lap around the bridge. He would have to bring Kyungsoo along next time he went. The two of them could maybe even take a quick dip in the small creek.

 

Soon, however, Jongin had ran out of the need to tell stories and a comfortable silence had settled between them. Jongin liked the silences they shared. He liked how it lay around him like a warm blanket, giving him comfort and ease. He liked how Kyungsoo would look at him from time to time, smile and, without saying anything at all, make Jongin feel like he had been given the world. It was like their own little language, the looks they would give each other, the touches, the smiles. Jongin could take Kyungsoo’s hand in his and know nothing could ever tear them apart. His thumb could rub over the raised lines on Kyungsoo’s hand and wipe every worry away like it had never been there to begin with. It was their world, between their smiles and the kimchi, and Jongin never wanted to leave.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice tore him out of his thoughts. Jongin turned his head meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. They were calm today, nothing of the lost look in them. His nose scrunched as he smiled, his mask pulled down under his chin and his heart shaped lips on full display. He looked at home here, in Jongin’s living room, at ease.

 

“My kimchi.” Kyungsoo said, holding out his hands in Jongin’s direction. Jongin blushed, realizing he had been staring, and quickly looked down to the hands held out towards him. The group of cabbages the other had been working on rested in Kyungsoo’s outheld hands and Jongin quickly took them, awkwardly having to squish some of them against his chest as he stored them away inside the jar they were currently working on.

 

“Wait.” Kyungsoo stopped him as Jongin reached for a new cabbage of his own. Slowly, careful of his messy hands, Kyungsoo pulled Jongin’s mask down. The smile still played on his lips, winking in and out of existence as if Kyungsoo was trying to hold it back. He leaned in, eyes flickering towards Jongin’s lips. He appeared almost shy, ears red and a breathy giggle leaving him. Jongin felt his stomach flip at the sight.

 

Gently, Kyungsoo’s lips came in contact with his, but the other soon deepened the kiss, firmly pressing his love against Jongin’s. Kyungsoo’s hands were still holding on to Jongin’s mask and Jongin brought his own hands up to grasp Kyungsoo’s wrists, holding him in place as they slowly kissed.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t initiate many of their kisses, or touches. Jongin knew he still feared what his hands could do, what the nothing-memories could bring out in him within a moment’s notice. A loud sound, an open space, too many people, and Kyungsoo would retreat inside himself, pull up his defences and his walls. Jongin knew how scared he was, both of himself and of others, but he also knew how safe Kyungsoo felt here, with Jongin.

 

“You taste like kimchi.” Jongin said, not being able to hold back a smile. Kyungsoo smiled in return, letting out a deep laugh as he pressed their foreheads together. His eyelashes tickled Jongin’s cheekbones as he blinked.

 

“Everything tastes like kimchi.” Kyungsoo laughed and Jongin decided to test the theory by kissing each of Kyungsoo’s cheeks next. They were soft under his lips, smooth. Despite Kyungsoo’s weight loss they hadn’t lost their chubbiness. He kissed Kyungsoo’s nose next, making the other giggle again. He loved the sound.

 

The shrill notes of the phone ringing burst their bubble. Jongin jumped in shock and Kyungsoo twitched in his hands, immediately tensing. Together they turned their eyes towards the kitchen as a second ring filled the room. Kyungsoo’s hands left Jongin’s mask and at once the spell was broken.

 

With a sigh Jongin stood up and made his way over to the kitchen. He struggled to pull off his gloves, the sweat of wearing them all day making them suction to his skin. With a huff the first glove slipped off and he quickly grabbed the receiver, squeezing it between his shoulder and ear before starting to work on pulling the other glove off.

 

“The Kim household, Jongin speaking.” He introduced himself, sticking out his tongue in concentration as he tried to pull at the fingers of the glove and at the same time not get kimchi batter on himself.

 

“Jongin!” Mrs Choi’s voice came from the other end of the receiver. Jongin smiled, happily greeting her. Summer was at its warmest and the tourists were flooding the village every day, which meant Mrs Choi’s café was full of customers. She probably phoned to tell him the kimchi had sold out and that she needed more. He took a quick peek out at Kyungsoo and the absolute mountain of kimchi they had made between the two of them.

 

“How is my favourite little boy doing?” She asked warmly.

 

“Good!” Jongin replied, absently picking at his glove. “Me and Kyungsoo are making kimchi.” He explained, eyes still looking at Kyungsoo as the other continued to work.

 

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” Mrs Choi asked and Jongin shook his head.

 

“No, we’re almost done. With Kyungsoo it’s a lot easier. He works really well.” Jongin answered and Mrs Choi made a sound of recognition from her end of the receiver.

 

“My Husband said the same. He’s a real farmer’s boy Kyungsoo. I’m surprised you haven’t brought him here before Jongin.” Mrs Choi said, ending the statement with a questioning hum. “But he’s lost weight since he came here. Jongin, are you not eating well?” She asked in a surprised tone. Jongin didn’t get the chance to reply before she continued.

 

“You know you can always phone Auntie and she will come over with all the banchan you want. You know Auntie will always cook for you.” She sighed worriedly. “When Unni died I told you you should come and live with me and my Husband. You men don’t know your way around a kitchen. We have place enough for you too, you do know that Jongin. And Kyungsoo can come too. Oh, my little boy.” She sighed again and Jongin felt his stomach turn. Ever since his grandmother died Mrs Choi had cared for him like was her own. He didn’t like it when he made her worry.

 

“We’re eating well Auntie.” He assured her with a small pout. “Kyungsoo can cook. He made me doenjang-jjigae and samgyetang last week.” It had been delicious.

 

“But he’s losing weight. You really should come over, get a proper meal in you.” Mrs Choi insisted and Jongin sincerely thanked her for the invite.

 

“He’s eating well too though.” Jongin continued. “It’s just the-...um.” He swallowed, pulling at the elastics of his glove. “The- uh- stress of the city that is making him lose weight.”

 

“Ah, the city!” Mrs Choi said at once and Jongin could almost see her shake her head in disapproval. “The city life does no one any good let me tell you Jongin. I’m glad Kyungsoo came here. Here life is tough but good. He will do well.”

 

“Yes.” Jongin agreed, watching Kyungsoo store away another small batch of kimchi in the jar. He was glad Kyungsoo had come here too. “But why did you call Auntie?” He asked, realizing he had never found out.

 

“Ah! Yes. We have an appointment with my husband’s doctor in Imsil tomorrow Jongin, and we need someone to run the café.” She quickly explained. “I will be there to open it but you need to take care of it during lunch. Got that my boy?” She asked.

 

Jongin swallowed, his mouth going dry. He pulled at the glove again.

  
“Alone?” He asked and Mrs Choi confirmed. There was no summer worker this year. Mr Choi had been helping out whenever Jongin couldn’t instead. Jongin nodded, biting his lip as he listened to her explain how everything worked despite Jongin having helped her for years.

 

“Okay.” He agreed weakly. Mrs Choi made a happy sound, speaking in length of how she knew she could trust Jongin. He was a good worker and everyone in the village adored him.

 

“More young boys should be like you Jongin.” Mrs Choi said, oblivious to Jongin’s discomfort. “There is no need for modernities like University or fancy electronics when you have good, old fashioned, hard working men like you.” She finished and Jongin could almost feel the pat she would have given his cheek had she been there in person.

 

“Thank you, Auntie.” He answered quietly. “I’ll be there tomorrow.” He pulled his glove again, making it snap painfully against his skin. Mrs Choi made another pleased sound before hanging up with a quick ‘goodbye’. A low tone played in Jongin’s ear for several long seconds before he pulled the receiver away and hung up.

 

Tomorrow was Friday, one of the busiest days of the week for Mrs Choi’s café. She had promised him that she would have enough drinks and sandwiches to last him the lunch break but that he might need to top up on kimbaps as they sometimes ran out during lunch. Which meant he would need to step away from the register and make them on demand. She had promised to have enough ingredients prepared at least so he wouldn’t have to do more than roll them. Not that it made Jongin feel any better.

 

He couldn’t even handle the cash register when Mrs Choi was around to help him, how was he supposed to run the whole café without her? He should have just said no. But he couldn’t. She had done so much for him, and he should be able to handle these sorts of things. He knew he should be. He just had to remain strong. He had to stop being weak and remain strong.

 

“Who was it?” Kyungsoo asked as Jongin returned from the kitchen. During the time of the phone call and Jongin’s internal conflict he had managed to fill the jar they had been working on and were now placing the first small batch of kimchi into the final jar.

  
“Mrs Choi.” Jongin said, grimacing at how shaky his voice sounded. Kyungsoo looked up, a silent question in his eyes. “She wants me to take care of the café during lunch tomorrow.” He explained, clearing his throat and sitting down. He could feel himself pouting and quickly pulled his mask up over his face to hide it.

 

Kyungsoo was silent as he looked at him, a calculating look that Jongin couldn’t make sense of in his eyes. Jongin looked away, busying himself with putting on the glove he had taken off earlier. It proved harder than it looked. His fingers slipped as he tried to pull at the rubber and he managed to put his little and ring finger in the same finger of the glove.

  
“Let me.” Kyungsoo said, taking the glove with two strong hands. Jongin easily pushed his hand inside. “I’ll come with you.” Kyungsoo continued as he tucked Jongin’s shirt into the glove, careful to not get too much kimchi on the fabric.

 

“You don’t have to.” Jongin replied quickly even though he wanted Kyungsoo there with him. But it would be selfish. Kyungsoo didn’t like large groups of people. Jongin had seen it every time they had gone outside. “I know you don’t want to.”

 

“I’ll come with you.” Kyungsoo repeated, Jongin’s gloved hand between his own two hands. Jongin stared at their intertwined hands, Kyungsoo holding his in the same gentle manner he had held his mask earlier. Kyungsoo was always holding Jongin up, always helping him and sacrificing his own comfort for Jongin. It wasn’t fair. Jongin was so selfish.

 

“Okay.” He whispered, because he needed the selfishness. He needed Kyungsoo to be there. He needed the comforting presence in the otherwise hectic café. Maybe, with Kyungsoo’s strength, he could get through tomorrow.

 

The silence enveloped them once more but despite holding the same comforting warmth as it had given Jongin earlier it still couldn’t chase away the worry in his chest. Kyungsoo seemed to notice and shifted closer, squaring his shoulders as if he could protect Jongin from it. Jongin leaned his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, feeling the muscles work as Kyungsoo carefully continued with the kimchi making.

 

The worry remained with him, gnawing on his insides and hanging on his shoulders as they made dinner and ate in front of the TV. Not even a rerun of an old music show with IU winning could ease the tension from Jongin’s back. The thought that tomorrow would be just like every other day he had manned the café wouldn’t stop picking at his brain. The disappointed looks of the customers, the impatient sighs, the errors, his shaking fingers, the belt slowly tightening around his chest, the self-hatred. He could feel it all as if it was happening to him right there on his couch.

 

Kyungsoo made him go to bed extra early, helping him undress and slowly scrubbing his back as they showered together. His strong hands, always so strong, gently danced around Jongin’s spine, plump lips pressing against his shoulder blades. Somehow, they were strong enough to hold the worries at bay, to scrub away every look, every sigh, every impatient cough. They pushed away the expectations, the pressure, as Kyungsoo wrapped himself around Jongin’s back, cheek resting against his shoulders. The warm water flushed the cold dread down the drain and when Kyungsoo towelled his hair dry, a warm smile on his lips, Jongin was able to return it.

 

That night when they went to bed, Kyungsoo slid up close to him, wrapping an arm protectively over Jongin’s chest and pressing his lips to the nape of Jongin’s neck. The gentle touch of the lips firmly pushed away the last tension still in Jongin’s shoulders. He sighed, intertwining his hand with Kyungsoo’s and pressing it close to his heart. Against his back Kyungsoo relaxed, deep breaths fanning Jongin’s shoulders.

 

The memories of fluffy towels, gentle kisses and strong arms were able to keep Jongin comforted until Mrs Choi had walked through the door, waving goodbye at him with a happy smile and telling him she would be back in time for closing. He hesitantly raised a hand at her in return, wishing that no one would show up at the café today despite knowing it would be as full as any other day.

 

There were already quite a few customers in the café, quietly chatting over their iced lattes and lemonades. Kyungsoo was sitting in the corner, eyes scanning over the room and hands slowly flexing and relaxing on the table. There was a royal milk bubble tea in front of him, courtesy of Mrs Choi, but Jongin doubted the other would touch it. He wished he could walk over there, take Kyungsoo’s hands and hold them until he knew they would both be okay. But he couldn’t.

 

On their way here, when Jongin had seen how crowded their small village centre was, he had once again given Kyungsoo the opportunity to stay at home. The other had still declined, telling Jongin with a determined smile that he would stay with Jongin the whole day through. Jongin found himself smiling at that thought, feeling a little more at ease knowing that Kyungsoo was there with him.

 

Kyungsoo chose that moment to look up at him, large eyes locking with Jongin’s. His hands stilled, wrapping around the tall glass in front of him and bringing it closer to himself. His lips didn’t close around the straw, but Jongin could see the corners quirk upwards in a miniscule smile. Jongin nodded at him to taste the drink, hoping that if Kyungsoo had something to do, he would feel better. It would make Jongin feel better.

 

Before he could see if Kyungsoo would go through with his suggestion a shadow fell on him, the sound of someone clearing their throat breaking the stillness around him. Jongin jerked, looking up at his first customer. The man was tall, taller than Jongin, and the wrinkles on his face were set into a permanent frown. Jongin swallowed, feeling himself shrink.

 

“Welcome Sir, may I take your order?” He asked, quickly looking down to the register so he could type in the order as quickly as possible. It was a simple order, just an Iced americano, but Jongin’s hands still shook as if the man had placed an order for twelve coffees, each with different customizations.

 

The coffee machine took forever to prepare the drink and Jongin sent a nervous smile the customer’s way. It wasn’t returned. Once the drink was done and delivered the next set of customers were already ready to order. A family this time, small children, and Jongin felt his chest grow tighter as the kids kept changing their minds, making him remove and re-add items to their order as the parents talked over the children. Once he finally had it right the time to assemble the order came and Jongin could practically hear the impatient sighs of the customers in line.

 

He cast a look over his shoulder as he started up the mother’s iced latte, aiming to take a look at the line starting to form and try to determine just how many people he would disappoint outside of Mrs Choi today. His eyes caught hold of Kyungsoo. The other man was back to flexing his hands, back ramrod straight as his eyes flitted around the room. Jongin felt his heart speed up, worry filling him. If Kyungsoo was acting like that already, would he be okay here for the rest of the day? He knew he should have made the other stay at home. He knew this had been a bad idea. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle this.

 

A loud hissing sound broke Jongin out of his thoughts and he turned back to the coffee machine, the hasty movement making his hand connect with the steam pipe and Jongin flinched at the pain, dropping the plastic cup in his hand. He dove for it, horrified by the mistake, and quickly trashed it before focusing on the order at hand once more, his heart racing in his chest. He had to focus. He had to do this.

 

What had started off bad only became worse with each passing customer. His fingers slowly grew stiff as he worked, the orders becoming harder to punch in correctly. His shoulders tensed, worry sinking its icy claws mercilessly into his chest. He tried easing it by looking over at Kyungsoo, trying to draw from that strength, but with every look his chest just became tighter. Kyungsoo was growing paler, tenser. Teeth clenched so hard it must hurt and nails raking line after line down his hands.

 

Jongin’s fingers slipped, punching in yet another order wrong. The sight of Kyungsoo had only made him feel worse. It was his fault Kyungsoo was here. It was his fault Kyungsoo was feeling bad. Everything was his fault. He tried drawing in a deep breath, knowing he needed to focus, but it got stuck in his throat, shuddering in his chest.

 

He hated this. He hated this feeling of uselessness. Of not being good enough. He hated trying his hardest and having it count towards nothing. He hated that other people were counting on him, and that he was going to let those people down. He hated how it had always been this way, all through school and beyond, and that no matter what he did he didn’t get any better. It was as if it was built into him, being weak and useless.

 

He forced himself to focus, forced his hands to work quicker as he prepared yet another lemonade, and somehow, he managed to get through another set of customers. And another, and another. The current customers, a pair of young girls, giggled as he stumbled over his words. The sound punched a hole in his chest, filling him with weakness and useless worry.

 

He looked up towards Kyungsoo again, seeing that the other man had stood up and was moving towards the staff room. His gait was stiff, his eyes blank as he passed. They didn’t look at Jongin. They were looking for an escape, and Jongin wasn’t there to guide them to safety.

 

He swallowed once, twice, thrice, trying to rid himself of the heavy lump in his throat that ached with each breath. The air around him was thin and gravity felt weak somehow, as if if it hadn’t been for the heavy weight of expectations resting on his shoulders he would have floated away long ago. His hands were clammy. The bills stuck to them. Jongin felt hot, sweaty, yet he trembled like he was freezing. Another order, another kimbap, another look cast Kyungsoo’s way, another disappointment. One too many.

 

He couldn’t break, wouldn’t break, no matter how much he wanted to because he had to do this. He had to do this for Yukgye-ri and for Mrs Choi. He had to do it so he could go and check on Kyungsoo. He had to do it so he wouldn’t fail this too.

 

He forced another smile on his lips, greeting the next customer in line. They were a group of old ladies, best friends from the sound of their chatting, and all three of them ordered the same thing. A juice packet and a kimbap roll. Jongin punched in the order with weak fingers and turned to collect the items.

 

His frame froze as he opened the freezer, seeing how all the kimbap rolls, the ones Mrs Choi had promised would last, were out. He could feel the world fall away around him as more sweat beaded on his forehead. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to do!? He had to fix this! He had to make more. Hadn’t Mrs Choi said she had prepared ingredients for more in case he needed it? She had!

  
He turned around, closing the door behind himself with a jerky push of his hand, and looked over at the customers who just raised their eyebrows at him.

 

“I-, we’re out of Kimbaps I have to make more can you please wait?” He rushed out and the old ladies’ eyes widened even more. The moment the first of them had even so much as begun to nod Jongin had turned on his heel and was fleeing out into the employee’s kitchen.

 

With a wheezing breath he tugged on the fridge handle, feeling his heart speed up even more as the fridge refused to open. The line was surely growing longer with each passing second and soon Jongin wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not even Mrs Choi’s misplaced trust would be able to help him. He was letting her down so bad. He tugged the fridge handle again.

 

With a third forceful pull the vacuum seal broke with a sticky sound, the door opening up so quickly Jongin’s shoulder smarted from the movement. He ignored it. Inside it was everything he needed for the kimbap. Cucumber, Tuna, cheese, rice, mayo, pickled radish, sesame leaves. With trembling hands, he reached out and grabbed the cucumber, tuna and mayo, clutching them against his chest as he kicked the door to the fridge closed and hurried back out into the cafe.

 

He placed the ingredients on the counter assigned to prepare foodstuff and flashed the line his best ‘I’ve got this under control’ smile he could muster up. It wasn’t much more than a grimace. Before he could see any reactions, he was off again, almost running as he moved back to the employee’s kitchen and forced the stubborn fridge door open.

 

He grabbed the rice and cheese this time, the large rice bowl heavy in his arms. He hurried back into the café, once again feeling his stomach twist at the line. Four groups of people, maybe five, were in line and Jongin knew that during the time it took to prepare 3 kimbaps the line would grow with at least two more groups. He was never going to finish this. He was stuck in an eternal loop of customers and failure.

 

He stumbled on the threshold as he returned to the kitchen, the world around him feeling foggy. His heartbeat was drumming so loudly against his ears he feared he soon would be able to hear anything outside of it. He paused, the room spinning around him, and forced himself to draw in a deep breath so he wouldn’t collapse. He had to do this. He _had_ to.

 

He tore the fridge door open again, grabbing the jar of pickled radishes and pulling it out with jerky movements. The jar slipped from his fingers, the condensation coating the glass making it slippery, and Jongin gasped. With his breath stuck in his throat he dove for it, fingers gracing it and only managing to send it flying further away from him.

 

It hit the floor, the ping of glass against stone shooting through Jongin’s chest, and bounced. Jongin was frozen as the jar fell against the floor once more, landing in an explosion of glass shards, rice vinegar and radishes.

 

With a whimper Jongin collapsed down, hiding his face in his knees. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this! He was such a failure. He couldn’t do _anything_ right. Everything he touched turned sour. He hadn’t been able to enter university. He hadn’t been able to keep up with the cabbage growing and kimchi making like he did when his grandmother was around. He couldn’t even properly care for Kyungsoo. He was a failure, the worst kind of failure.

 

A pained whimper echoed in his ears and Jongin pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. He wasn’t going to cry on top of all of this. He wasn’t going to be that weak. He drew in a deep breath, roughly wiping his eyes. He couldn’t feel any wetness though. Jongin blinked, touching his eyes with his fingers again. They came away dray.

 

Another whimper sounded in the small staff area, and this time Jongin realized the sound wasn’t coming from him. The whimper, small, familiar, had Jongin looking up. He ignored the mess of turmeric and bay leaves on the floor as he forced his aching joints to stand him up.

 

Hesitantly he inched forwards, his ears listening for any sound. As he drew closer to the small passage leading out to the side street behind Mrs Choi’s café he could pick up the sound of rapid breathing, of shoes squeaking against the floor and fabric catching on old wooden crates. He swallowed, hand sliding against the wall to keep help support his still shaking frame.

 

“Soo?” He called out quietly. A chance, let out into a dark corridor stacked full of wooden crates and cardboard boxes. The light had stopped working in the small corridor years ago and since the area was so rarely used no one had bothered to fix it.

 

Before, When Jongin had been younger, much much younger, the corridor had been regularly used but since then the area had grown cluttered to the point where you could barely walk through it without having one shoulder against the wall and the other against the boxes full of napkins, plastic cups, disposable spoons and anything else you needed to keep the café running. Jongin remembered how he had used to hid in the corner between the boxes and the door, a manhwa from the library in his hands. It had been like his own little world where he felt safe, invisible. From it you could hear what was going on in the café, he knew because he had used to eavesdrop on his parents and grandmother whenever they had helped Mrs Choi out.  It was the perfect hiding spot for someone who needed to know what was going on but didn’t want to be seen.

 

He slowly crept closer to the origin of the sound. Kyungsoo was curled up in the corner between the boxes and the door, his bleeding hands pulling roughly at his hair as his frame shook. He looked small, fragile, even more so than the broken glass Jongin had left behind on the kitchen floor.

 

Slowly kneeling down Jongin’s eyes caught sight of the way Kyungsoo’s hands were working against his scalp, fisting, twisting, and releasing large sections of hair. It reminded him of the way a cat would knead at a pillow.

 

“Hey.” He whispered, voice cracking. Kyungsoo flinched, hands tightening in his hair. Jongin’s hand trembled as he reached out, catching one of the hands as it momentarily released and interlaced their fingers. Kyungsoo’s grip on him was strong, crushing, his nails digging into Jongin’s skin and leaving red indents. Jongin squeezed the hand back with equal power, needing the strength he knew resided in the other. Because even now, terrified, overwhelmed and small, Kyungsoo was stronger than Jongin could ever be.

 

His thumb swiped over the reopened wounds on the back of Kyungsoo’s hand and the other’s breath hitched, his second hand slowly untangling from his hair and wrapping around the two intertwined hands. He pulled them close, into his small form, and pressed them against his lips. Jongin could feel them tremble, could feel the shudder of every breath.

 

“Please.” Kyungsoo whispered, his eyes glossy. His fingers squeezed Jongin’s hand harder and Jongin let his other hand join, massaging the cramping digits and making them ease their panicked grasp. The whisper had been a plea, and Jongin opened his own mouth to let out a plea of his own. He needed help, he wanted to help, but nothing could get past the heavy lump in his throat.

  
“They won’t leave me alone.” Kyungsoo continued, voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to make them go away. I tried to ignore them but they wouldn’t go away! I had to hide! But they won’t leave me alone!” Kyungsoo drew in another sharp breath, fingers tensing around Jongin again. Jongin moved closer, pressing his own forehead against Kyungsoo’s. “I can see them. I can hear them. I can smell them. The blood, oh god the blood! Jongin please, please make it go away!” Kyungsoo begged, his voice cracking and his grip faltering around Jongin’s hands for a moment.

 

Jongin quickly strengthened his own grasp, pushing with their intertwined hands at Kyungsoo’s jaw until Kyungsoo was looking up at him, glossy eyes filled with fear and horror. Jongin clenched his teeth, determination flaming up inside of him at the sight in those dark brown orbs. He had already let down Yukgye-ri and Mrs Choi, but he wasn’t going to let down Kyungsoo. He was going to help him.

  
“You’re here. You’re now.” He spoke, his words barely more than the movement of his lips. “You’re here and I will keep you safe.” He continued, pushing his forehead against Kyungsoo’s again. Every muscle in his body hurt, screamed at him to give up, but he wouldn’t. With Kyungsoo’s hands in his he was strong, he could push the nothing-memories away.

 

“I’ll keep you safe. But I need you with me. I need you to help me. Kyungsoo please I’m not strong enough on my own.” He pleaded, his words burning on the way out. “I _need_ you to make kimbap. Stay with me, _please_ , I’ll keep you safe just, stay with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears form in them. He wasn’t strong enough to keep both Kyungsoo afloat and the café running, but he needed to be. Please stay with him. Please.

 

Kyungsoo’s breath fanned across his face before a pair of cold, trembling lips pressed against his cheek. A quiet reply. Jongin bit his lip, his thumb rubbing the back of Kyungsoo’s hand.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything, but Jongin new, he always knew. He nodded, looking up at Kyungsoo who looked back at him, eyes filled with trust. Without breaking eye contact they stood up, both of them trembling. This was a stupid idea, he couldn’t have any of them working in this state.

 

But they needed to.

 

Jongin nodded again, watching as Kyungsoo gave another curt nod, and pulled him along to the kitchen. They ignored the mess on the floor and Jongin went straight to washing their hands, letting the blood run down the drain along with the nothing-memories. The room smelled of fear and vinegar.

 

He grabbed a spare apron, pulling it over Kyungsoo’s head and wrapping the ribbon around his waist like armour. Kyungsoo didn’t let go of his arms as he worked, chest struggling with each breath as Jongin slowly saw him build up his own defences again, saw him hide away behind walls of protection. Jongin helped him. He flattened his hair down, wiped the lone tear track away from his cheek, and hid the scratches behind blue plastic gloves.

  
With the reminding ingredients pushed into Kyungsoo’s hands so the other would have something to hold on to they turned towards the café, the sound of confused voices reaching them.

 

The moment they crossed the threshold out into the café Jongin forced a smile onto his lips, his hands digging into the tense muscles of Kyungsoo’s arms. The old ladies still waiting for their food turned to them with surprised expressions, their conversation immediately dying out. Jongin nodded at them, steering Kyungsoo towards the workstation and helping him unload the ingredients from his arms. Jongin could still see the other’s hands tremble and quickly pushed the handle of a knife into his grasp, knowing Kyungsoo always looked more at ease with a weapon in his hands.

 

Kyungsoo looked up at him, silently asking him if the knife was a good idea. Jongin’s hands tightened around Kyungsoo’s, squeezing them and telling him Jongin trusted Kyungsoo, to the end of the universe.

 

He let go, gently, and turned back around to the customers still waiting. They were watching Kyungsoo with curious eyes as the other quickly, almost worryingly quickly, sliced some cucumber for the kimbap.

 

“I’m sorry for the wait.” Jongin spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, bracing himself. “I had to get the cook.” He explained and the old ladies nodded, taking a step aside as he instructed them to wait. The food should be done soon, should.

 

He quickly cast a look behind himself, checking in on Kyungsoo who had set the knife down and was already rolling the first kimbap. It wasn’t as neat as his usual work and Jongin could see he was still shaking, but it was neat enough to be served. He drew another shuddering breath and faced the next customer.

 

“Hello, how may I help you?”

 

The customers in front of him were a couple, a man about Jongin’s age and a girl maybe a year or two older. They were looking at him with worried eyes and Jongin could see the man discreetly push his girlfriend behind himself as he regarded Jongin.

 

“You okay bro?” He asked and Jongin quickly nodded, knowing he probably looked like crap right now. Quickly he ran his hands through his hair, pushing it down, and cast another look back to Kyungsoo. He was working on the second kimbap.

 

“Yes, how may I help you?” Jongin repeated. His voice was breathy, as if he had run a mile, and his chest still struggled to pull proper breaths into his lungs. During the time it had taken him to get Kyungsoo and all the ingredients they needed the line has grown long. People were surely growing annoyed. He just wanted to get this all over and done with. Couldn’t the man see that?

 

“Uh, yeah, an iced latte for me and strawberry bubble tea for my girl.” The customer said, still looking slightly hesitant. Jongin nodded, repeating the order and starting to punch it into the register. His hands were still shaking and for some reason his eyes were tearing up, making it hard to see what he was doing. He sniffed, roughly wiping the tear away, before removing the iced americano he had wrongly punched in and changing it to an iced latte.

 

A hand landed on his lower back and Jongin flinched, quickly turning his head to see who was touching him. Kyungsoo had appeared next to him, the newly prepared kimbaps neatly wrapped in paper in his hands. He wordlessly held it out for the waiting old ladies, who accepted them with a small smile and a ‘thank you’. The hand against his lower back was firm, unwavering, but Jongin could still see the fine tremor in Kyungsoo’s frame.

 

“Do you know how to make bubble tea?” Jongin asked quietly, turning slightly towards Kyungsoo and placing a gentle hand in the curve of his waist. He gave it a firm squeeze, using Kyungsoo’s strength to steady himself. He knew the other had seen him work in the café many times, and he knew Kyungsoo was more observant than anyone he had ever known.

 

Kyungsoo gave a quiet nod, catching Jongin’s eyes for a short moment. The lost look emerged, blinking into existence for a fraction of a second, but Jongin had seen it. He smiled, moving his hand from Kyungsoo’s waist to the gloved hand still pressed against his back. His thumb ran over the scratches he knew was hiding under there. Jongin would keep Kyungsoo busy, Jongin _would_ keep the nothing-memories at bay.

 

As one they turned away, Kyungsoo back towards the counter and Jongin towards the couple still waiting.

 

“Anything else?” He asked, feeling his breathing come a little easier. The customer shook his head and Jongin gave him his total, his voice growing stronger with each word. His eyes flicked to the side, watching Kyungsoo pour the bubble-gum pink strawberry tea into a cup. His hands were steady now, his shoulders less tense as his eyes focused on the task at hand. Jongin mustered up a small smile, asking the man to take a step aside and wait for his order before hurrying over to the coffee machine to make the iced latte.

 

With every order he finished Kyungsoo would place a gentle hand on the small of Jongin’s back, giving a comfort stronger than words could ever bring. Jongin would return it with a small smile and another task, making sure he kept his promise to keep Kyungsoo safe from the nothing-memories. He could see the tenseness slowly slide off the other’s frame and slowly the ache in Jongin’s chest lessened. Knowing that Kyungsoo was also keeping an eye on him, making sure he stayed strong, made him more solid.

 

Somehow, with Kyungsoo there, the queue didn’t seem quite as long. The people seemed to sigh less too, the orders seemed less complicated. The steady thuds of Kyungsoo’s knife as he prepared another kimbap echoed in time with Jongin’s heart beats. The deep exhale of the coffee machine as another drink was prepared matched Jongin’s steady breaths.

 

His fingers that always seemed to mess up the inputs were suddenly flowing easily over the register, movements he had struggled so long with coming by themselves. The smile he always had to force onto his face were teasing at his lips as he greeted another family, almost coming naturally. With Kyungsoo’s strength at his back, Jongin could finally do something right.

 

He smiled, turning around to look at Kyungsoo who was busy rolling another kimbap. He let his fingers run over Kyungsoo’s back, lingering for a moment on a scar there, as he passed, just to keep himself steady. Kyungsoo sent him a small look, a small smile, and Jongin returned it before grabbing the prepared kimbap and handing it over to the customer who happily accepted it.

 

The minutes passed, faster and faster until suddenly the queue was dealt with and the lunch rush was over. It felt surreal, unreal, to look at the empty space in front of the counter instead of just another face, another customer waiting to be disappointed. Jongin blinked, clearing his throat and squeezing the edge of the counter in his hands. What was he supposed to do now? Was this the way things were supposed to work out? He didn’t know.

 

He turned to Kyungsoo who was wiping down the coffee machine after the last order. He still looked a little shaky, a tenseness behind his eyes that lingered still. Maybe the same distrust in calmness as Jongin was feeling. Jongin reached out, grabbing Kyungsoo’s free hand and positioning himself so their hold would be hidden behind his body. Kyungsoo looked up, meeting Jongin’s eyes. Jongin let his thumb run over the scabs, noticeable even through the plastic gloves, and the tenseness at the corner of Kyungsoo’s eyes softened.

 

“You did it.” Kyungsoo said, smiling gently. Jongin gave the hand in his a firm squeeze, eyes still locked with Kyungsoo’s. He could feel himself return the smile, a warm feeling settling in his middle.

 

“ _You_ did it.” He whispered in reply, thumb still slowly stroking. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re stronger than me.” He added, looking down at their interlaced hands. Without the other there he would have never made it, not like this. He would have broken down, he would have failed. Kyungsoo was his key to success.

 

“You’re strong too.” Kyungsoo whispered and Jongin looked up, meeting the shorter’s eyes. They were filled with determination. “In ways I could never be.”

 

Jongin let out a small laugh, feeling his cheeks burn. Absently he reached up to push Kyungsoo’s bangs aside, smoothing out the small frown still lingering. They were almost long enough to reach his eyebrows and soon Jongin would need to get Mrs Kang to cut them. She helped trim Jongin’s hair whenever necessary.

 

Although, he liked this hair on Kyungsoo more than the short hair Kyungsoo had had when Jongin had first found him. It matched Kyungsoo better. There was a slight natural curl to the black locks, just enough to create some extra volume. And in the mornings, when his face was still swollen from sleep and his eyes still puffy, Kyungsoo’s hair reminded Jongin of a poodle’s.

 

“Excuse me.” A voice called out from behind them and Jongin jumped, quickly turning around and dropping Kyungsoo’s hand. The voice had come from one out of a pair of girls, maybe a few years younger than Jongin. They were standing by the counter, phones in their hands as they looked at Jongin and Kyungsoo with expectant smiles.

 

“Can we take a picture of you two?” The shorter of the two asked.

 

“Uh-” Jongin breathed, not knowing how to react to the odd request. “I- Um... Us two?” He asked, pointing between himself and Kyungsoo. The two girls nodded, raising their phones with a smile.

 

“For Instagram. We want to remember the café” The taller one spoke this time, pushing her almost waist long hair behind her ears. “We’re also-” She interrupted herself, her eyes flickering to the girl next to her before returning to Jongin. “It’s always nice to promote likeminded people.” She finished, wrapping her arm around the other girl with a pointed, almost daring look. Jongin could still detect nervousness in her face though.

 

Jongin looked between the two, taking in the way the shorter was leaning her head against the taller’s shoulder. They looked like they were made to fit together like that, like two pieces of a puzzle. The shorter noticed him looking and smiled, a red tint not too unlike that he would see on Kyungsoo colouring her ears.

 

“Ah!” Jongin gasped, realizing they were thinking him and Kyungsoo were a pair. He turned around, looking at Kyungsoo who looked up at him, eyes filled with the same look he had seen in the girls’. With another gasp he realized they were, they had been, for a long time. He turned back, reaching blindly behind himself and feeling Kyungsoo hook his fingers into Jongin’s searching hands.

  
“Ah yes! Likeminded. Um- ah- yes- uh.” Jongin eloquently got out, wrapping his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist in a way that mimicked the girl. It felt weird, he shifted so his arm was wrapped around Kyungsoo’s shoulders instead, Kyungsoo’s hand sliding along the small of his back and landing on his hip. Their stance mirrored the girls’.

 

“Great!” The shorter girl said, lifting her hand away from her girlfriend’s shoulder and taking a few steps back before aiming her phone at the two of them.  Jongin could feel Kyungsoo tense under his hands and pulled him closer, seeking to comfort. He wondered if he should smile or if that would be weird. But not smiling would almost be weirder...right? He forced a smile on his lips, feeling awkward as the girl took yet another step backwards, figuring out the best angle.

 

Kyungsoo’s shoulders moved under his arm and the hand on his hip moved upward, settling in the narrow of his waist. Jongin felt a shiver run up his spine. He looked down at Kyungsoo, seeing the shorter shyly smile at the camera. A swarm of butterflies filled his middle, swirling around inside him like a small storm of happiness. He couldn’t help but move even closer to Kyungsoo.

 

With a smile so bright it hurt his cheeks he looked back at the girls and the camera phone. Kyungsoo’s hand tightened around his waist and he could hear the other’s deep laugh ring out. His smile grew impossibly larger. The click of the shutter went off and all Jongin could think of was how beautiful Kyungsoo must be with his bright smile and shoulders shaking from laughter. How the freckles Jongin had noticed appearing on his tanned cheek last week only made the happy scrunch of his nose prettier. How his lips would form a heart and his eyes disappear into thin moons of happiness.

 

The girls laughed, thanking them with happy bows and waves once the pictures were taken. Jongin waved back, feeling a strange sense of relief flow over him. Not only had they somehow managed to survive the lunch rush, but he must have done something right in servicing as well if the customers wanted pictures.

 

There was a happy murmur filling the café, people talking loudly and small children playing under the tables. He could see several other people take pictures of their food, showing it to their friends as they laughed over one thing or another. Jongin found himself smiling at the full seats, thinking of how proud Mrs Choi would be over the two of them when she returned.

 

A small ding rang out over the noise and Jongin looked over at the door, watching an old couple step in through the door and excitedly look around. He took a step forward, separating from Kyungsoo whose hand slid over his backside as he stepped back to his workstation.

 

“Welcome.” Jongin greeted, smiling naturally. “How may I help you?” He asked, voice strong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful support! Every day I am blown away over the love you guys have given this fic <3


	10. Too Weak Too Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this one so late. I am visiting my home town and I have been about 10x more busy than I imagined. Also, please heed the warnings in this chapter, they are there for a reason.

Jongin squeezed the small box in his hands as he looked out over the fields by the roadside, the crops fully grown and ready for harvest. It was a sunny afternoon, the pressing August heat stinging his tanned skin and making him sweat. Still, Jongin was smiling.

 

He was on his way home from town, having helped Mrs Choi with the café today as well. Outside of today he had helped her with the lunch rush once more since him and Kyungsoo handled the cafe on their own some two weeks ago. Usually, he would have felt nothing but stress and worry walking home from the café but not today.

 

Ever since the day with Kyungsoo in the café it was as if something had changed. The simple act of getting through the lunch rush just the two of them when he had thought they wouldn’t manage anything even close to that had left something in him. A trace of strength from Kyungsoo that he could pull forth whenever needed.

 

The memories of Kyungsoo’s small touches, the noises he associated with Kyungsoo, the knowledge that he hadn’t let the other down, all of it helped calm him whenever the stress and expectations became too much. He was still shaky, of course, and he had still needed to step away for 15 long minutes today because a customer had argued with him over their prices. Mrs Choi had thankfully stepped in but Jongin was sure that if he hadn’t been able to sit down and focus on Kyungsoo’s soft smiles and steady determination he wouldn’t have been able to return to the register at all.

 

It was as if the simple knowledge that because he had gone through it once, he should be able to go through it again was helping him look past the panic and stress and see the details Mrs Choi always spoke so fondly of in the café. The couples making eyes over drinks and appearing to be in their own world. The families laughing and making memories. The friends exploring new sides of themselves, seeing the world from another perspective and growing into something bigger.

 

He smiled, looking down at the small box in his hands. Mrs Choi had even said she had been proud of him. She had gotten compliments from returning customers and hadn’t minded at all that Kyungsoo had helped out despite the café having always been a business run only by the few selected personally by the Chois. As a thank you she had even made Kyungsoo a mango cake which she had given to Jongin after hugging him tightly, telling him about how she had heard Kyungsoo had a soft spot for the yellow fruit.

 

He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Kyungsoo all about it and watch him smile as he opened up the small box with the cake.

 

He quickened his steps, walking closer to the edge of the road as he heard the sound of a car approaching from behind him. It was probably one of the tourists heading back home. He turned around, taking in the shiny big, black SUV slowly driving up the hill. It looked like some big shots from the city. Still, it was pretty considerate of them for not just speeding past him like most cars usually did. He gave them a quick bow in thanks as the car rolled closer.

 

The car slowed down as it passed him, coming to a stop a few meters in front of him. Jongin slowly took a few steps forwards, curious as to why it had decided to stop. The passenger seat window lowered, and a man leaned out of it. Jongin bowed quickly in greeting, figuring the man had stopped for directions back to the bypass road. That was usually what the tourists wanted. He took a few steps forward.

 

“Just keep going, the big road is still some 10 minutes away.” He said politely once he was within hearing range, flashing a quick smile and stopping to let the car get on its way before he walked on.

 

The man didn’t reply, but he quickly turned back into the car and gave a quick nod. Jongin could see him gesture something, probably to the driver, but couldn’t see what because of the poorly lit inside of the vehicle. He didn’t look like most of the tourists. The black turtleneck, shortly shorn hair and sunglasses made him look more like military personnel than anything else.

 

A moment later the door next to him opened and Jongin felt someone grab his arm. He jumped, trying to tear himself free, but the stranger had a grip of steel. He backed away, still pulling at his arm to try and get it free. The stranger, dressed the same way as the man in the passenger seat, reached out and Jongin reeled back, eyes wide in shock. His only thought was to keep the box with mango cake for Kyungsoo safe.

 

“Let me go!” He cried, feet stumbling over each other in his haste to get away. The stranger reached out again, trying to grab his other arm, and Jongin swatted his hand away. Should he call for help? He looked around himself, trying to spot anyone who could help him.

 

Something was pushed over his head and Jongin let out a cry. He reached up, trying to pull the black bag off but someone grabbed him around the waist, someone new. He flinched, the box slipping out of his grasp and Jongin cried out again, feeling panic rise inside him.

 

“Help!” He gasped, trying to throw the person holding onto him off. It was impossible. Their grip was like a vice around his chest, pressing the air out of him. His arm, the one still in the grasp of the first stranger, was pulled behind his back, and soon his second arm was as well. He could hear something zip, feeling something thin cut into the skin of his wrists, and the next second he was roughly pushed forward and made to move.

 

He stumbled, blindly falling head first into what could only be a car seat. The loud slam of a car door behind him only confirmed his suspicions and he quickly tried to sit up and shake off the bag pulled over his head. The air in the black car was hot, thick, hard to breathe, and it only grew worse as Jongin felt the car hum to life under him, heard the crunch of gravel under wheels and felt the rolling motion of driving. He screamed for help, still trying to orient himself in the pitch-black darkness.

 

“Quiet!” Someone spat, roughly grabbing hold of his neck and pressing him against the car door. Jongin held his breath, fearing the car door would give way and allow him to tumble out and under the wheels of the car. He could tell they were moving quickly from the shaking of the suspension vibrating the window glass and the sound of gravel shifting beating against his ear drums. He nodded, not daring to verbally confirm he had understood the order given to him.

 

“And stay still. I won’t hesitate to knock you out of needed.” The voice growled before he was let go. Jongin nodded once again, scooting closer to the car door to get as far away from the voice as possible. Shakily he drew a breath, still feeling the vice around his chest despite the arms being long gone.

 

His hands were shaking where they were tied behind his back, the iron grip replaced by rope of some sort holding them together. His shoulders hurt from the rough treatment and one of his ankles throbbed. Maybe he had twisted it earlier? He didn’t know. All he knew was that it hurt and with each passing second it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

 

They wouldn’t let him suffocate, would they? Oh God, would they? What if they did? But why had they taken him then? Why had they taken him at all? Was he being kidnapped? He was, right? But who would tell Kyungsoo about it? Who would care for him if Jongin was gone? He couldn’t be kidnapped. He just couldn’t. But if not, what was happening?

 

The thoughts bounced around in his head, one barely forming before another took its place. He didn’t even know where they were taking him. He had no possible way of telling anyone what had happened. And no one had known where he was when it had happened. No one could help him. He was utterly alone.

 

The car jerked to the side, a turn, and the bumpy ride of a gravel road was exchanged for a smooth tarmac road. Jongin could feel the car speed up and knew he was leaving Yukgye-ri far behind. His breath hitched, his fingers curling into fists as he tried to keep himself together.

 

He couldn’t help thinking of Kyungsoo and the mango cake. He knew it was stupid, that there were more pressing matters. But that Kyungsoo would never get to taste it, that Jongin wouldn’t get to tell him Mrs Choi had made it specifically for _him_. How proud Jongin was of that. How no one had ever managed to become a part of the village as quickly and securely as Kyungsoo. How Jongin wanted him to stay forever and ever. How he didn’t care what Kyungsoo had done in his past. How he wanted it to be _them_ , forever and ever until he was too old to take Kyungsoo’s hand and brush his thumb over the scars. And even then, he wanted it to be _them_.

 

He bit his lip as the first sob escaped his mouth, shrugging up his shoulders and trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, or how far they travelled. It could have been a day, an hour, or a minute. Jongin wouldn’t know. All he knew was that it felt like an eternity and by the time his tears had dried on his cheeks the car rolled to a stop.

 

He was roughly pulled to standing, the same vice like grip as before painfully encircling his arm. He stumbled as he tried to keep up with his captors, loose gravel under his feet making it hard to walk. There was no telling where they had taken him. Nor where he was going now. All he could make out was when the gravel underneath him was exchanged for concrete and the heavy metallic slam of a door behind him. Several pairs of footsteps, surely five or more, echoed in time with his own as he walked, and walked, and walked.

 

Finally, they stopped walking. Jongin was forced into a chair, almost falling off it from the rough push. He righted himself, breathing shallow as he waited. The dark sack was still pulled over his head and the inside was hot and moist from his breath and tears. Still, his mouth felt dry like the Sahara and his insides icy cold. He shifted, shoulders starting to ache from the awkward position his arms were forced into.

 

“He-Hello?” He tried as another minute of nothing passed. Had they forgotten about him? That didn’t sound like anything kidnappers did. Being left on his own was probably the best thing to hope for in a situation like his but with every passing second of silence Jongin could feel the panic grow in his chest. The darkness of the sack didn’t help and soon his mind started imagining what could be happening, each scenario worse than the one before. What if they had left him to starve? Or were they waiting on someone to come torture him? Or maybe they were going to kill him, put a bullet through his brain and Jongin would never know because he couldn’t see?

 

Just as he started fearing passing out from hyperventilation the sack was pulled off his head. A blinding white light stung his eyes and Jongin was so shocked he completely forgot about his rising panic. He blinked, trying to shake the dancing spots of light out of his eyes.

 

The room he was in was bare. The concrete walls were grey, and a set of strong fluorescent lamps were mounted on the ceiling. In front of him was a white table, not too unlike the one Jongin had used in school, but as he looked down at the floor he saw that the legs of the table were bolted to the concrete with thick bolts. He blinked again, forcing in a deep breath into his cramping chest, and looked back up. A man in a black suit and black shirt were standing opposite the table, five o’clock shadow on his chin and strong eyebrows. He was made of harsh edges, square jaw with pointy nose and thin lips. His shoulders broad and fingers stocky but strong. Jongin didn’t dare meet his eyes.

 

“Kim Jongin. 24 years old. Born the 14th of January 1994. Resident registration number 9401141635819. Mother, Kim Soohye, dead 27th of June 2006. Father, Kim Seokmin, dead 27th of June 2006. Grandmother, Kim Boyeon, dead 2nd of November 2014. Graduated Imsil high school with a grade of 0,9. Lives in Yukgye-ri and runs a kimchi production company.” The man said, reading from an open folder on the table. Jongin could see that the folder also contained a photo of him working in the cafe and a layout of his house. A closed folder lay on the table next to the man.

 

“And now accomplice to one Doh Kyungsoo.” The man continued. “State hired assassin, 37 officially confirmed kills, 15 more unofficial ones, and rogue since four months back. Care to explain why he’s in your care Mr Kim?” The man slowly looked up at him, eyes tired and uninterested.

 

Jongin looked down, trying to draw enough air into his lungs to answer. What had he gotten involved in? They had everything on him. They even had his grade. How did they get hold of his grade? Why did they get hold of his grade? And the interior of his house? Jongin cast a look in front of himself, seeing the man flip through even more photos with lazy fingers. Jongin on his way home. Jongin out in his cabbage field. The inside of Jongin’s kitchen. His bedroom. His shampoo collection.

 

“No? Not going to talk?” The man asked, grabbing a set of photos from the folder. With slow steps he walked up towards Jongin before sitting down on the table, one foot still braced against the floor. “No use denying it. We know he’s living with you.” The man said, his calm voice only serving to make Jongin more distressed.

 

“He hasn’t exactly been discrete about it.” The man continued, licking his thumb before pulling out one of the photos from the pile in his hand and placing it in front of Jongin. It was a photo of the burglars who had broken into their home about a month and a half ago. The large one’s face was almost entirely bruised, nose clearly broken, and the other had a clear imprint of Jongin’s baseball bat in his forehead, eyebrow busted in two places. The third one, the one who had escaped, was clutching a bandaged hand, the gauze red from blood.

 

“He might as well have written his name on them with how obvious this was.” The man drawled on. “No civilian in Yukgye-ri is on record to be able to cause this much deliberate harm. A pity really, for him to make the chase this easy. All it took for the police to give up the men were a simple story of chain break-ins and then we had your full information. Then it was just up to us to confirm it all.”

 

Another photo landed in front of him. It was of the two of them out in the field one early morning, Jongin wearing his red pants and Kyungsoo his yellow ones. Another one followed, taken through a window, the two of them in the living room, Kyungsoo happy and relaxed in Jongin’s arms.

 

“We still had to figure out what you were up to. His behaviour was quite frankly puzzling.” A new photo. It was a photo of him and Kyungsoo, their foreheads pressed together. They were standing by Grandfather Tam’s pick-up truck and Jongin realized it had been taken during their shopping trip last month. A small voice in his head reminded him of the car Kyungsoo’s eyes had flickered towards, the empty one. The photo was taken from that angle. Two more photos landed on top of it. One of them of Jongin in the café, looking distressed as he stared at the register. The second one of Kyungsoo standing outside in the middle of the night, his hair wet with sweat from a nightmare. His eyes were drilling straight into the camera.

 

“But of course, we quickly figure out where we should push to find out.” The final photo landed in front of him and Jongin felt as if the air had gotten punched out of his chest. It was a printout from Instagram. The text _Love is everywhere, we just need to look_ followed by a rainbow heart and a hashtag for Mrs Choi’s café introduced the picture. The photo was of him and Kyungsoo, their arms wrapped around each other and their bodies leaning against one another. Jongin looked like he was mid laugh, his mouth open and his entire face radiating happiness. Next to him Kyungsoo was smiling so hard his eyes were nothing but thin slits under his long bangs. His heart shaped smile was slightly wonky in that way that made Jongin’s heart flutter and his nose was scrunched up like a rabbit’s. Their aprons matched, as did their tans. They looked the picture of love.

 

A tear rolled down his cheek.

 

“Is Kyungsoo okay?” He asked, his voice a weak whisper. The man smiled down at him, his grin making the ice in Jongin’s middle grow colder. Slowly he leant down, bracing a hand on Jongin’s shoulder.

 

“Just tell us what we want to know and you’ll both be okay.” He said with a nod, smile widening. Jongin looked away, feeling that if he agreed they would probably both be in more trouble than they were now. The man sighed, lifting his hand from Jongin’s shoulder and Jongin felt the vice around his chest loosen as his breathing came easier. If he just kept quiet they would probably grow bored soon and let him go. They were obviously only interested in Kyungsoo and as long as Jongin kept quiet Kyungsoo would be safe.

 

His jaw was suddenly yanked to the side, the man’s short nails digging into his chin, and Jongin let out a gasp in surprise. A group of men, dressed in black turtlenecks and with heavy guns slung over their chests formed a half moon behind him. The one closest to him took a step forward and raised his gun, pointing the barrel right between Jongin’s eyes.

 

“Now tell us what we want to know and i won’t have to put a bullet in your head.” The man whispered in his ear. Jongin trembled, his eyes unblinking, never once leaving the barrel. With miniscule but quick movements he nodded, a whimper escaping him as the fingers tightened around his jaw.

 

“Good.” The man pulled at his jaw until Jongin was looking forward again. The fingers left him and Jongin almost turned back around to look at the gun, not wanting it out of his sight for even a moment, but the man snapped his fingers to stop him and Jongin barely dared to breathe.

 

“Tell me, Jongin.” The man continued, strolling back to his place opposite Jongin and sitting back down. “Tell me why is Kyungsoo living with you?” His voice was calm but Jongin didn’t dare to trust the calmness.

 

“I found him.” He started, voice loud in the silent room despite Jongin feeling weaker than he had ever felt before. “In my cabbage field. He’s got amnesia.” He sucked in a breath, and another, and another. The panic made it impossible to breathe. “He needed someplace to stay. He doesn’t have anyone else. I let him stay.” He looked up at the man for a split second, seeing the same blank calmness, and looked away. “He needs me. He can’t remember anything.”

 

A long silence passed between them, only the sound of Jongin’s erratic breathing heard in the silent room. With every passing second the air seemed to grow thinner, the tension in Jongin’s shoulders growing. He didn’t dare shift though, didn’t dare to pull in a deep breath. All he could think of was the gun and how it looked aimed between his eyes. The face of the man holding it, the way his fingers rested on the triggers. Tears burned in his eyes.

 

The man opposite Jongin suddenly snorted, shaking his head before breaking into small chuckles. Jongin felt the panic grow inside him, a high pitched, nervous giggle of his own escaping his lips. He was going crazy.

 

“Do you really expect us to believe that?” The man asked, laughter breaking off abruptly. “That Doh Kyungsoo, the best assassin we have, has gone down with a case of amnesia?” The voice was just as calm as before but Jongin could see anger burn in his sharp eyes.

 

He nodded quickly, breathing shaking as he tried to keep himself composed. That was the truth. What else was there to say? Did they want him to say something else? But that wouldn’t be the truth.

 

The man stood up and took a step forwards, gesturing to someone behind Jongin with a wave of his hand at the same time.

 

Suddenly cold metal was pressed against Jongin’s temple. A sharp cry broke the silence of the room before Jongin could stop it. His body trembled, his breathing nothing short of hyperventilating, and the lump at the back of his throat burned. The tears in his eyes stung and as he pressed his eyes close the first drops escaped down his cheeks.

 

“April 18th, 2018, 1500 hours, Doh Kyungsoo was sent to Moaksan-Gil on a mission to intercept two North Korean spies.” The man begun, his voice a quiet hiss. “He was traveling under the alias Han Kangwoo, an office worker from Seoul visiting his family. He was supposed to locate the target, extract the information, and return to the drop point within 12 hours. April 19th, 2018, 0400 hours, still no show. No contact had been made since 2200 hours the day before when agent Doh had confirmed the mission was green. Now you’re telling me that Kyungsoo walked from Moaksan-Gil all the way to Yukgye-ri only to end up in _your_ cabbage field.” The man questioned and Jongin quickly nodded, whimpering as the barrel of the gun pressed closer.

 

“Now Jongin, I’m not a stupid man. A trained assassin-. And when I say trained here I don’t mean only skilful. I mean that agent Doh is trained to blindly obey any order we give, to kill without question, to work as a mindless machine. -A trained assassin like him simply don’t disappear. We know his location every moment of every day. We know when he eats, sleeps, shits. We know every breath he takes. We know what he thinks before the thought has entered his head. So no, he didn’t disappear. Something happened. And that something was North Korea.” The man continued, unbothered by Jongin’s choked off sobs.

 

“We know there are spies living in every corner of this country, just like we have our men in every corner of theirs. We also know that the piece of intelligence Kyungsoo was tasked with collecting is of tremendous importance. But I hardly need to tell you that now, do I Jongin?” The man asked, looking down at Jongin who looked away, vision blurry from tears and chest jumping with sobs.

 

The next second the man moved forward, hands slamming down on the table in front of Jongin. The safety of the gun cocked off. Jongin whimpered, shrinking in on himself and trying to hide but the man grabbed his jaw again, forcing him to face him.

 

“I know you’re hiding something Jongin. You and Kyungsoo are working together. Now I want to know why? Are you on our side or are you on theirs? Are you from the states? From China? I will have answers Jongin, you decide how much you will hurt before I get them.” The man hissed, spit landing on Jongin’s face with every word he spoke. Jongin gasped, too scared to even breathe.

 

“Now talk!”

 

“Oh God! Oh God oh God oh God!” Jongin cried, voice pitched high from panic. “Kyungsoo’s got amnesia and he didn’t mean to ever hurt anyone and, oh God this isn’t happening, he’s just living with me I don’t know anything about any intelligence. He hasn’t said anything! I don’t know anything I swear! Oh God oh God please don’t shoot me! I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.” He prayed, sobs muffling his words as he tried to explain himself in one breath.

 

“BULLSHIT!” The man roared, slamming his hand against the table again. Jongin shook his head, sniffing pathetically.

  
“He doesn’t know anything! He has never mentioned North Korea I swear!” Jongin continued. “I’m just a kimchi farmer, I don’t know anything, there is nothing to know, Kyungsoo just helps me on the farm, he doesn’t know anything, I don’t know _anything_! Oh God please Grandma help me!” Jongin rambled on, struggling to breathe between the sobs and his jumbled pleading.

 

“Shoot him.” The man said and Jongin let out a scream.

  
“NO! No no no no no please Sir I swear I don’t know anything!” He begged. “Kyungsoo hasn’t said anything he doesn’t remember. please Sir he doesn’t know, he’s trying his hardest, he-”

 

A gunshot rang out and Jongin screamed again, curling in on himself. His ears were ringing and for a moment he feared the shot had hit him in the chest from how much his heart hurt. But there was no wound, no blood. He slowly blinked, his entire frame shaking so hard he feared he would fall off the chair. A newly formed hole smoked in the wall next to him and Jongin barely had time to realize the shot had missed on purpose before the hot barrel was once again pressed against his temple, burning the skin there.

 

“Now talk or the next hole will be in your skull.” The man spoke.

 

Jongin whimpered, snot running down his chin from how hard he was crying. He tried to get the words out, tried once again to explain how he didn’t know anything, how Kyungsoo was trying really hard to remember but he couldn’t, how Jongin didn’t want him to remember because he was so sad when he did, and it didn’t suit Kyungsoo to be sad.

 

“His hands- he scratches- and blood- the smell- No loud noises. I scare him- I don’t mean to- I scare him- and- and- and- He didn’t mean to- He had bruises- and cuts- and- and- then when I found him- the cabbages- they were- he looked out for them- he cares- he- I- he- he- he-” Jongin broke off into a whimper, words failing him and becoming unintelligible between the sobs.

 

“He was hurt when you found him?” The man asked and Jongin nodded, choking on his own snot and coughing loudly.

 

“When did you find him? Time and date.” The man demanded and Jongin tried his best to suck enough air into his lungs to answer.

  
“5AM, April 19th.” He pushed out before breaking down into new sobs. He couldn’t stop thinking of Kyungsoo, of how lost he had been when Jongin had found him and how comfortable he looked now. How at home he seemed. He couldn’t help but to think if Kyungsoo had gone through what Jongin was doing right now he never wanted Kyungsoo to get even close to it again. He couldn’t help but feel with his entire soul, every fibre of his being, like he was betraying Kyungsoo. He was so weak, so pathetic. He couldn’t even defend the person who he needed the most. It would be better if they just shot him.

 

“That’s enough.” The man said, and the barrel was removed from Jongin’s head. “We won’t get anything else of importance. Go collect the asset. We know the hours he’s been off grid now.” The man let go of Jongin but not before giving him a pat on the cheek, making Jongin flinch. The sound of heavy iron toed boots hitting concrete beat against his eardrums and distantly he heard the door to the room open.

 

“We’ll be back to finish this. In the meanwhile, why don’t you make yourself familiar with the man you’ve been housing.” The man said, grabbing the closed folder off the table, opening it and placing it in front of Jongin. The next second the tie around his wrists was cut and Jongin whimpered as he moved his sore muscles.

 

“Don’t try anything. I’ve got guards outside the door, and they won’t be as kinds as I’ve been.” Was the last thing he heard before the heavy steel door slammed shut and the distinct click of a lock sounded. Jongin brought his arms forwards, cradling his bruised wrists against his chest, and curled in on himself. He could still feel a phantom barrel press against his temple, could still hear the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears.

 

His frame shook as he cried, trying to keep his tears silent. He feared what would happen when they came back, knew that once they returned he wouldn’t have much time left. He knew he should probably try to escape, try to come up with some sort of information he could bargain with, but his mind kept returning to the mango cake, crushed by the roadside. He was so stupid.

 

His grandmother had always said he was smart, that he could think with his emotions better than anyone she had ever met, but what use were emotions in school? What use were emotions in accounting? What use were emotions in his current situation? What use were emotions in life? No use at all. He wished he was smart. He wished he could think, could, plan, that he could be strong like Kyungsoo.

 

Kyungsoo, who hand no idea where he was. Kyungsoo, who Jongin couldn’t do without. Kyungsoo, who couldn’t do without Jongin. Kyungsoo, who he just wanted to kiss softly one more time, whose hands he wanted to keep from ever scratching at his skin again. Kyungsoo, who he loved with all of his stupid emotions.

 

He sobbed, blindly reaching for the folder because even if the Kyungsoo in there was someone Jongin didn’t know, someone who didn’t know Jongin, it was Kyungsoo. His fingers slipped around a photograph, weak from blood restriction and wet with tears. Slowly he brought it forward, meeting the icy cold eyes of a Kyungsoo who he had seen once before. Short hair, pale skin, square jaw. It couldn’t have been taken long before they first met. He looked so different, against the grey background. Hard and empty. A shell of a person. A machine.

 

A tear landed on the photo, soaking through the cheap paper and staining Kyungsoo’s cheek. Softly, Jongin apologized before stroking the cheek, a weak mimicry of comfort. Somehow, even though this Kyungsoo was unknown to him, it still made him feel better.

 

He put the photo aside, careful not to stain it further, and pulled the folder closer to himself. The first paper, with a small black and white version of the photo he had just held printed in the corner, contained Kyungsoo’s personal information.

 

‘ **Name: Doh Kyungsoo**

**Birth: 1993-01-12, Ilsandong-gu, Seoul, South Korea**

**Resident registration number: 9312011578965**

**Family: Biological parents unknown. Asset left at Ilsandong-gu orphanage as an infant. Lived in foster care between age 4-15: Age 4-7 spent with the Koo family, Ilsanseo-gu [29], removed due to disorderly behaviour. Age 7-9 spent with the Bae family, Wonsan-ri [30], removed due to disorderly behaviour. Age 9-10 spent with the Nam family, Ilsandong-gu, [31-45], removed due to child abuse allegations of both guardians Nam Boyoung and Nam Jungmo, see appendix for full details including court records. Age 10-11 spent in care of Ilsandong-gu orphanage during the legal trial. Age 11-15, spent with Wang family, Sosa-gu [46].**

**Education: Gajwa Kindergarten, Haseong Primary School, Hyeonsan Primary School, Hansoo Primary School, Seongju Primary School, Sengju Middle School. Asset did not graduate from middle school. At the time of dropping out the asset had a grade of 37%.** ’

 

Jongin sniffed, tears almost having stopped by now. His hands slowly ran down the page, scanning the information and he felt his heart clench at what he read. Kyungsoo had been lost from the beginning. No place to call home, no place where he belonged. Jongin doubted he had ever been loved much. Suddenly a fresh wave of tears escaped his eyes at the thought that Kyungsoo would once again be alone. That he would never even know what happened to Jongin. Or even worse, that he would die thinking Jongin had betrayed him.

 

He threw the paper away, feeling sick just looking at it. The next paper was just as bad, describing how Kyungsoo had been recruited by the NSA at the age of 15 after ‘showing promising fighting skills’ and ‘little regard for morals and law’. He threw this page as well.

 

Several pages followed, all thrown aside after a quick glance at all the training Kyungsoo had received. Martial arts. Training with firearms, including long range firearms. Training with blades, both traditional and modern. Different kinds of hand to hand combat. Interrogation techniques. Torture techniques. Infiltration strategies. Discipline. Training in how to withstand torture. Desensitizing of Morals. Weakening of mental state. Obedience.

 

His hand stilled on the next page though, his eyes glued to the text despite his brain screaming at him to stop reading. The title of the section read ‘ **Assignments** ’ in bold letters. The age 17 stood out, along with first confirmed kill. The target had been a 58-year-old woman, executed in a ‘controlled environment’ at point blank range. No reason was given for why she had been killed, and Kyungsoo’s ability to obey without question was praised. His second and third confirmed kill mirrored the first. Controlled environments, point blank range, no reasons given. Murdered. In cold blood.

 

At 19 he had been given his first official mission, target killed successfully, and a long list of missions followed, each one referenced with a page number for further details. His last mission was marked under April 18th, 2018. Mission status: unknown. Asset’s location: Unknown. Suspected rogue agent.

 

The next section read ‘punishable offences’ and was at least as thick as the section on training. Jongin barely made it through the first paragraph before he heaved and pushed the folder away from him, his stomach cramping. With tears in his eyes he looked around the room, trying to find anything to throw up in. Images of Kyungsoo whispering of faces he could see but not remember, faces afraid of him, rushed through his mind. Kyungsoo’s nightmares, his reaction to loud sounds, his fighting and how mindless it seemed. The panic, the fear, the scars. All of mingled with the information Jongin had just read.

 

Jongin stood up, stumbling as he retched once more. His legs gave out under him and he barely caught himself against the wall before he heaved again, sick splattering against the wall and floor. Kyungsoo holding on to him and begging him for it all to stop, Kyungsoo pulling a gun on someone innocent and firing because he was told to, Kyungsoo running outside in panic and drenched in sweat after yet another nightmare, Kyungsoo assassinating a father of five for looking too deeply into something he shouldn’t, Kyungsoo smiling up at Jongin when he said he trusted him, Kyungsoo a lost ten year old in court to testify against the people assigned to protect him. It was all mixing in his head until Jongin couldn’t figure out where it all began and ended, where Kyungsoo the killer had begun, if he had ever existed, if there had ever been anything other than him.

 

The stomach acid burned the inside of his nose as he threw up again, his cramping stomach making it hard to breathe and the unstoppable tears making it even harder. His entire frame was trembling, cold sweat soaking through his t-shirt and making it cling to his skin. Blood was rushing in his ears and his heart hammered so hard in his chest he was afraid it would break through his rib cage.

 

And on the table lay the folder. A detailed step to step guide on how to build a killer, destroy a human, lay within. Kyungsoo’s name stood out like the letters were burning on the front. Jongin wanted to set it all ablaze, erase it all, remove it from history and just forget. But he knew he never could, just like Kyungsoo never could. There were just as many scars running across his brain and heart as there was on his body and those ones Jongin couldn’t smooth over. He couldn’t paint a starry night sky with them and call them beautiful.

 

With a cry he threw himself against the table, pushing the folder off of it so he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. His legs gave out the next second and he slumped down over the table, sobbing pathetically. He had betrayed Kyungsoo. He hadn’t been able to protect him, he wouldn’t be able to protect him when they came for him. He had gotten himself kidnapped and soon he would have gotten himself killed too. Who would guide Kyungsoo then? When he was lost, when he was alone, when he was scared. Who would help him? Who would be strong for him? Who would be his rock like Kyungsoo had been Jongin’s.

 

A gunshot rang out from the other side of the steel door, another one following in quick succession. Jongin tensed, sniffling as he raised his head from the table and looked up towards the door. Where they coming back? A strange sense of calmness washed over him, compliance with his faith. He was exhausted to the bone. He couldn’t fight, even if he wanted to. Not without Kyungsoo at his side. What was there to fight for when he wasn’t there?

 

The lock of the door clicked open and slowly the heavy door started swinging open. Jongin forced himself to straighten up, too tired to even cry anymore. A thick silence had filled the room after the sound of the gunshots, cold as it dove down his ears and wrapped itself around his insides. Even time seemed to get stuck in the silence, swallowed up by the black hole in Jongin’s chest where his heart had been.

 

A small figure stepped into the room, eyes wide, bangs too long for the hot summer, scratches tearing up the back of tanned hands. Jongin felt his breath hitch, his eyes locking with the dark orbs. They held the universe, his universe.

 

“You’re alive.” Kyungsoo breathed, words thin in the tense silence. They tumbled out of him like a heavy boulder tumbles down a hill, unstoppable and uncaring of what might get caught in its path.

 

Jongin’s hip hit the edge of the table as he rushed forward, lightheaded from relief. Kyungsoo met him halfway, the other’s bloodied hands hooking around Jongin’s back in desperation and his face burying itself in Jongin’s chest. Jongin pressed his lips against Kyungsoo’s hair, uncaring of the sweat and dust soaking through the strands or the pain shooting through his knees as they hit the concrete, weak legs folding.

 

“You’re alive.” Kyungsoo repeated, his hands fisting in Jongin’s sweaty t-shirt. Jongin nodded, a hand on Kyungsoo’s neck and the other wrapped around his back, supporting him.

 

Time was frozen as he held Kyungsoo. He didn’t care about the sick clinging to his shoes or Kyungsoo’s tears and snot soaking through his shirt. He didn’t care about the corpse of the guard laying in the corridor and the puddle of blood slowly seeping into the room. He didn’t care about the burning gun, hot from recently being fired, in Kyungsoo’s hand, or the newly formed swelling of a bruise that he could feel on Kyungsoo’s side.

 

For them the universe stopped, just for a second. For them to hold each other, support each other. For a moment the centre of everything was them, inside a concrete bunker in north Jeolla, South Korea. And under his right palm, beating erratically, was Kyungsoo’s heart and the centre of Jongin’s everything. From the moment it had begun beating until the day Jongin’s heart stopped beating Kyungsoo would be his everything, his reason for living, his reason for loving.

 

Kyungsoo tore himself away from Jongin, looking up with red rimmed eyes filled of fear. Jongin wanted to pull him close again, hold him until it was all over. He wanted Kyungsoo to hold him until the world around them stopped existing, until there was nothing more than them, their love, and the endless universe.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo pressed a gun into his hand. “Jongin listen to me. The gun is loaded. You hold it like this.” His hands were pulled into position, his right hand holding the gun and his left supporting it. His finger rested against the side of the gun. “Don’t place your finger on the- Jongin!” Kyungsoo grabbed his cheek, making him look at him again. The gun was slipping through his fingers. Kyungsoo’s hand steadied it.

 

“I can’t shoot a gun.” Jongin whispered, trying to give it back to Kyungsoo.

  
“I can’t do this alone.” Kyungsoo whimpered, pushing the gun back at Jongin. Jongin could feel the tremble of the other’s hand travel through the heavy metal. Kyungsoo’s forehead bumped against his, hot breaths mingling as a salty tear landed on Jongin’s cheek. A quiet ‘please’ whispered into Jongin’s heart.

 

His hand tightened around the gun.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo spoke, separating from Jongin again. “Don’t place your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Okay Jongin?” He continued, his voice pleading. Jongin blinked. “The mag is full, there’s 17 bullets in it, including the one in the barrel. Use them all if you need to, please.”

 

Kyungsoo sobbed, letting go of Jongin’s cheek and helping him raise the gun.

  
“Align the front and rear sights to aim, and squeeze the trigger to shoot. Aim for the chest, it’s the biggest target. Okay? Do you understand Jongin?” Kyungsoo asked, looking back at him with pleading eyes.

 

“Aim for the chest.” Jongin repeated, nodding. The gun was shaking in his hands. Kyungsoo steadied it once more.

 

“Jongin listen, listen carefully. Okay, step one, point.” He helped Jongin point the gun toward the door opening. “Step two, breathe in and hold it.” Kyungsoo’s breath shook. “Step three, aim.” Jongin closed one eye, his vision was blurry with tears. “Step four, squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull it, it will pull your gun out of aim. Squeeze it Jongin. Okay squ-” A gun shot rang out, deafening.

 

The recoil of the gun threw his arms upward. The metal was hot against his fingers and the air smelled of gunpowder. His ears were ringing, his fingers shaky as they held onto the gun. Kyungsoo was saying something beside him, his voice thick with tears.

 

“-in front of me. Stay behind me Jongin. Only behind. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t survive hurting you. Shoot when you have to. Promise me you will. You have to promise me.”

 

Kyungsoo grabbed hold of his face again, two blooded hands holding his cheeks as he looked into the pleading, teary eyes.

 

“Promise me.” Kyungsoo repeated, lips trembling with the movement. Jongin swallowed, wanting to wipe away the tears and the sorrow in the other’s eyes. Wanting to protect him.

 

“I promise.” He whispered.

 

Kyungsoo crashed his lips against Jongin’s, the kiss a painful press of teeth and lips. Just as abrupt as the kiss Kyungsoo stood up, a gun of his own grasped in his hand. He raised it toward the door, quickly moving forward, peaking outside, and disappearing through the door frame.

 

Jongin struggled to stand up, the gun in his hand weighing a ton. He sniffed, moving his finger away from the trigger and forcing himself to walk through the door. Kyungsoo was a few meters ahead, crouched low by a wall. His gun was pointed toward a door at the end of the corridor they were in and Jongin stumbled forward, trying to think through the heavy fog in his brain.

 

Three more gunshots rang out, all from Kyungsoo’s gun, and the sound of bodies falling to the ground echoed down the concrete corridor. He stood up, quickly hurrying through the open door and Jongin struggled to keep up, his knees giving out under him with every other step. He felt like he was in a dream. None of this felt real. Maybe he had actually died, when that first shot had been fired. Maybe this was just a feverish dream his brain was making up in his last dying moments.

 

His foot slipped out from underneath him and Jongin flailed, bracing himself against the wall so he wouldn’t fall. He looked down, seeing blood seeping into the grey fabric of his sneakers. A few feet to his right lay a body, shot neatly between the eyes. Jongin heaved, doubling over for a moment before forcing himself forward so he could get away from the sight. The irony tang of blood burned in his nose and if he hadn’t already emptied his stomach the heavy smell would have surely had him throw up.

 

Kyungsoo was a few meters ahead of him, crouched low. Every muscle in his body was tense, his shoulders, his legs, arms, back, neck. He looked foreign. Still, Jongin knew he had to follow, knew that if anyone was to get them out of here it would be Kyungsoo.

 

They sneaked down another corridor, passing other concrete rooms closed by steel doors. The whole place seemed abandoned and somewhere in the fog of thoughts Jongin quietly wondered why he had even been taken here of all places. If it was truly as abandoned as it seemed no one would find them if they were killed.

 

Maybe that was the plan.

 

Kyungsoo held up a hand, signalling for him to stop. Jongin did so, bracing himself against the wall as he slid down into a squat behind the other. The gun scraped against the concrete at the movement and Jongin felt his stomach turn once more. He had forgotten about having it and now that he was once more reminded of it the metal seemed to double in weight tenfold. Shakily he drew a deep breath, watching Kyungsoo fist the hand he was holding up.

 

The next second the man who had pulled Jongin into the black car earlier appeared in front of them, gun raised and aimed at Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin didn’t know how they got out of there. The whole thing was a fog of gunshots, blood, screams, grunts and running. He knew that at one point a shot landed precisely in the spot his head had been in moments before. He knew that at one point people came up behind them, grabbed him, hurt him. He knew there had been a wiz of bullets passing him and the unmistakable feeling of a dead body collapsing down on top of him. He knew that at one point he had his gun raised, arms shaking badly, and pointed towards a man having Kyungsoo in a choke hold. He knew he couldn’t have fired even if he wanted to. He knew that bare minutes later, or maybe endless eternities, he was running towards the door leading to the outside while Kyungsoo fired off one final shot, the brain matter of yet another black clad man splattering all over Jongin’s cheek.

 

The cold evening air blew the fog away from his brain with his first inhale. The sun was already setting, bathing him in a deep orange glow. He stumbled, coughing as he desperately sucked in air. It felt like it was the first time he had breathed since he was forced into the car. Behind him he could hear Kyungsoo follow and the next second a hand grabbed his.

 

Kyungsoo’s hand was slippery with blood, a long cut across three of his fingers from where he had blocked a swing of a knife. It slipped from Jongin’s with a wet sound. Jongin surged forward, grabbing Kyungsoo’s hand in a firm hold and squeezing it tightly enough that it had to hurt.

 

They ran.

 

Around them was an empty field, long since abandoned. It might have been used to grow corn at some point, or tomatoes. Jongin didn’t know and he didn’t care. The once fertile earth had turned dry and dull, weeds having sucked it dry. Jongin cast a look behind him, taking in what had once been an old barn or factory of sorts. There were no other buildings in sight for as long as Jongin could see.

 

The ground was uneven beneath them, making Jongin stumble as he tried to keep up with Kyungsoo’s quick pace. The air that had been so refreshing first now burned with every breath he took. The adrenaline in his body starting to run low, the ache of his arms and shoulders returning, the memories of bruises making themselves remembered on his skin. Every step was a struggle.

 

“Where?” He managed to gasp, looking around frantically. Where were they? Where were they even going? Could they run back to the village? It must be quite some ways away if it had already gone dark. Or had Jongin spent longer in the interrogation room than he thought? He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. All he knew was that as long as Kyungsoo ran, so would he.

 

“The car!” Kyungsoo answered between steady breaths, short, controlled. He raised his arm to point for a quick moment, his own gun tucked away somewhere. Jongin followed the finger, seeing a point to a bush. It took another few meters of sprinting before he realized that behind the bush Grandfather Tam’s old car stood parked, looking just as abandoned as the building they were escaping from.

 

A strange sort of relief filled Jongin. They had made it. He had escaped, Kyungsoo was safe. They were both safe. They were both going to go back home. They were together, once more. They had done it. His steps suddenly became lighter, his aches washing off of him with each step they took closer to the car, to escape, to release.

 

A gun shot rang out in the night and Kyungsoo’s hand slipped out of his hold. Jongin stumbled, running several more meters before even realizing what had happened. He stopped, turning around to see what had happened.

 

A man stood in the field behind them, gun raised and smoking. He was wearing a cream coloured coat over a suit, his hair holding just the faintest hints of grey. He looked like no one Jongin had seen before.

 

Between the two of them lay Kyungsoo, curled up into a tight ball as he clutched his knee. Jongin took a stumbling step forward, hand reaching out as if trying to take Kyungsoo’s hands again.

 

“Stay right there Jongin.” The unknown man said, pointing his gun at Jongin. His eyes were hard as steel and his voice a deep baritone that easily travelled across the empty field. Jongin froze mid step, breath catching in his throat as a phantom barrel once again pressed itself against his temple. The small burn singed into his skin started aching.

 

“Agent Doh.” The man continued, voice passive as he looked down at Kyungsoo. There was a look in his eyes Jongin couldn’t quite place. It was as if the man was looking at a dog who had disobeyed, eyes tired but pitying. “I thought we taught you better than to run away.” He stated, shaking his head as he started walking toward Kyungsoo with slow steps.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t look up. He stayed hunched over on the ground, pressing his hand hard against his knee. Jongin could see blood seep through the other’s torn pants and the tight press of fingers and instinctively took a step forward.

 

“Ah ah.” The unknown man shook his head, pulling back the safety of the gun and expertly aiming it between Jongin’s eyes. Jongin stilled again, feeling the fog of panic start to overtake his brain again. Kyungsoo was bleeding, he had to help him. But he couldn’t. But he had to! But he couldn’t!

 

“Come here Agent Doh.” The man said, gesturing to a spot next to him. Slowly, his entire frame shaking, Kyungsoo stood up. Jongin immediately searched for the wound by his knee. The bullet had barely grazed his upper calf. A long gash that sluggishly bled was visible, but it didn’t look like anything important had been damaged.

 

Jongin felt himself breathe a little easier. Kyungsoo wasn’t badly hurt. He could still walk, even though he limped with each step. If he could walk he could fight. The man was alone after all, and he didn’t look like the kind of person who fought. His black suit, collar crisp and white with a navy-blue tie secured to his chest with a golden tie pin, didn’t look like the sort of clothes you fought it.

 

As the man shifted the rays of the setting sun caught a small, golden enamel pin attached to the chest of his suit, an insignia. It was hexagonal with an almost labyrinthian design. In the middle was something written, a word or some hanja, maybe even western letters, but the text was too small for Jongin to make out.

 

Kyungsoo stumbled closer to the man, hands pressed against his chest as he looked down at the ground. His narrow shoulders looked even smaller than usual and the relief that had filled Jongin moments before was slowly morphing into icy cold dread in his chest. It spread over him like acid, slowly eating away at him from the inside out.

 

Why wasn’t Kyungsoo doing anything?

 

The man smiled as Kyungsoo came within reach and for a split second Jongin expected Kyungsoo to snap his fist up into that sharkish grin. But instead Kyungsoo just stopped, hanging his head as he waited. The man looked down at him, shaking his head as he tutted.

 

“Agent Doh, the best assassin in the agency.” The man said, slowly reaching out and cupping Kyungsoo’s jaw. Kyungsoo whimpered. Jongin felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “What did I say about disobeying, hmm?” The man asked and even from the distance he was at Jongin could see how tightly the fingers were gripping Kyungsoo’s chin.

 

“I’m sorry Mr Cheung.” Kyungsoo whispered, his voice weak and his words small. Mr Cheung hushed him, shaking his head again. Jongin could see his thumb press against Kyungsoo’s lips, lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

 

“What is this I hear about amnesia? Is it true?” Mr Cheung asked, sounding just as passive as before. His thumb roughly rubbed along Kyungsoo’s bottom lip before he allowed the other to answer.

  
“Yes Sir.”

 

“Then how come you remember my name?” Mr Cheung asked, humming in question. There was something mocking in his tone, like he was talking to a bothersome child or someone beneath him. “You know I don’t like lies Kyungsoo.”

 

“I-” Kyungsoo started, voice failing him. Mr Cheung patiently waited for him to answer. “I don’t know. I remember some things. When you said Agent Doh...it came-” His words failed him again and Jongin could see his shoulders tremble. Mr Cheung sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. Kyungsoo whimpered again.

 

Tell me, Agent Doh.” Mr Cheung suddenly looked up toward Jongin, the sharkish grin returning. “Is Jongin your friend?” He asked, looking straight into Jongin’s eyes. Jongin met his gaze for only a split second, but that was enough to tell him Mr Cheung already knew the answer to his question. He knew exactly how much they needed each other. And he knew exactly where to push to make them hurt.

 

“Yes Sir.” Kyungsoo whispered, still not looking at the other despite the hand holding his chin forcing him to look up.

 

“Perfect.” Mr Cheung looked back at Kyungsoo, grin still on his face. “We’ll simply have to start from the beginning again with you.” He said, letting go of Kyungsoo’s jaw and placing a large hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder instead. His grip dug through the thin, bloodstained, material of Kyungsoo’s shirt.

 

“Kill him”  
  
Jongin felt as if the air had been sucked out of him, the coldness of the night instantly growing colder. He shivered, struggling to pull in a breath as he looked at the pair in front of him. Kyungsoo’s entire frame was shaking, looking small under the looming Mr Cheung.

 

“No.” Kyungsoo whispered, voice so weak it barely left his lips. He shook his head and Jongin could see the nervous scratching of his hands despite Kyungsoo having his back turned towards him.

  
“You know the rules asset.” Mr Cheung said, tightening his grip on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “There is no such thing as ‘no’ here.” He said, forcing Kyungsoo to turn around with a quick push of his hand. The action had Kyungsoo let out a small cry, his knee twisting painfully.

 

Their eyes met. Jongin felt small. Kyungsoo’s eyes were large and blank, filled with tears. They were terrified, more scared than Jongin had ever seen them. His already blood-stained hands were twisting against his chest, one second scratching, the other squeezing the other, the third clawing at his chest as if to open it up.

 

“Please.” Kyungsoo whispered, pleaded. Jongin heard himself repeat the words, the tone. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t have gotten this far only to lose it all. They just couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not when Kyungsoo had sacrificed so much. Not when he had been making so much progress. Not when he had finally found a home, finally found love.

 

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair in any way! Kyungsoo had helped him so much. He had helped Jongin out of so many uncomfortable conversations. He never laughed at Jongin’s weird ramblings. He never made Jongin feel stupid, or annoying, or awful. He made Jongin feel better. He _made_ Jongin better. He made Jongin more secure. He made Jongin less worried. He made Jongin braver. He made Jongin stronger.

 

Anger surged through him. Anger that things had ended up this way. Anger at how hard they both had fought, all for naught. He wouldn’t allow this. He would not allow things to end up this way. He would get them out of here, somehow. He tore his eyes away from Kyungsoo’s, ignoring the look begging for help and forgiveness in them as Kyungsoo’s nails tore another strip of skin from his hands.

 

His eyes met Mr Cheung’s and the burning rage inside him turned into a forest fire. Mr Cheung thought he had already won. Jongin’s entire frame trembled in anger, the gun still clutched tightly in his hand bumping against his leg, and without a second thought, Jongin raised it.

 

Mr Cheung let out a laugh, mocking, his head shaking in disbelief as he looked at Jongin and the gun aimed at his chest. Jongin gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath. With a strong thumb he pulled back the safety.

 

Instantly, Mr Cheung grabbed Kyungsoo around the chest, pulling him against his chest and covering his body with the smaller’s. His own gun pressed against the side of Kyungsoo’s jaw, pointing upward to ensure a shot would be fatal.

 

“Let him go!” Jongin called, taking a step closer. Mr Cheung pressed his gun harder against Kyungsoo’s jaw, making the other whimper.

 

“Oh no I can’t do that, Jongin.” Mr Cheung sighed, tutting again and shaking his head. The same sharkish smile as before slowly grew on his lips, the ice-cold look of control returning to his eyes. He thought he had this under control.

 

“Let him go!” Jongin repeated, his voice a growl. He was not going to let Mr Cheung win this. He was not going to play according to his rules. He took a step forwards again and the gun twitched against Kyungsoo’s jaw. No shot went off though.

 

“I’ll shoot.” Mr Cheung said simply.

 

“You won’t.” Jongin said just as simply.

 

“What makes you think I won’t.” Mr Cheung asked, letting out another small laugh. It grated against Jongin’s eardrums like nails on a blackboard. He took another steeling breath, trying to remain calm. He could do this. He had to do this. For Kyungsoo.

 

“You need him.” Jongin said, struggling to keep eye contact. The gun was heavy in his outstretched hand.

 

“ _You_ need him.” Mr Cheung corrected, looking down at Kyungsoo and using his free hand to stroke down the side of his face. Kyungsoo let out a sob, seeking Jongin’s eyes. There were tears running down his cheeks. Jongin felt the rage reignite inside him. He tightened his hold on the gun, meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes full on. He would save him.

 

“You’re going to die tonight no matter what Jongin.” Mr Cheung continued, looking back up at Jongin. His hand did not leave Kyungsoo’s cheek. The touch would have been almost comforting in any other circumstance. “You decide whether Kyungsoo dies as well.” He finished, patting Kyungsoo’s cheek and smiling down at the smaller for a brief moment “Your choice.” He looked back up at Jongin with that same look of superiority he had worn the whole conversation.

 

“Or you die.” Jongin said. He would save Kyungsoo. He would be strong. Strong enough to get them both out of this. Strong enough to save Kyungsoo like Kyungsoo had saved him.

 

Mr Cheung let out another laugh, looking genuinely shocked for a moment. Jongin raised his other hand, steadying the gun. He was strong. Stronger than ever before. He pointed the gun towards Mr Cheung’s head.

  
“Have you ever shot anyone before my boy?” Mr Cheung asked, chuckling between the words as if Jongin pointing a gun at him was the most amusing thing he had ever experienced.

 

“No.” Jongin answered, drawing a deep breath. He tore his eyes away from Mr Cheung and looked down the sights, trying to align them against Mr Cheung’s head. He was stronger than the nothing-memories plaguing Kyungsoo.

 

“What if you hit Kyungsoo?” Mr Cheung asked, suddenly not sounding quite as amused. Jongin drew another deep breath.

 

“I won’t.” He said. He was stronger than Mr Cheung.

 

“This is a stupid idea my boy.” Mr Cheung said, moving his finger towards the trigger of his gun. Jongin did the same.

 

“All my best ideas are.” He said, squeezing the trigger gently, yet firmly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end...
> 
> SIKE!
> 
> There will be an epilogue and it will be up in between 2-3 weeks times so fear not. For now though, thank you all for all your sweet words about this fic and for staying along for the ride <3<3<3


	11. Epilogue: A Universe for Us

Like every morning before, the sun rose slowly over the small village of Yukgye-ri, illuminating the many fields and the small village square. The sunlight danced on the shingled roofs, chasing away the coldness of night and warming up the small sprouts of what would become the first spring harvest.

 

The warm rays made their way inside one of the houses on the outskirts of the village, filtering through cracked wooden window shutters and reflecting off of dust particles that danced in the air. With each passing moment the room grew brighter, the stone walls plastered white soaking up the heat. Unhurriedly, the sun shone on the person curled up on the futons in the middle of the room, slowly bringing him out of the depths of sleep.

 

The blaring of an alarm broke through the peaceful stillness and Jongin groaned, burying himself further into the pillows. Just a few more minutes please. I could not possibly be 5AM already. It had been 9PM just second ago when Jongin had closed his eyes.

 

Blindly, he reached out toward his alarm clock, smacking it a few times to shut it up before bringing it close to his face. He didn’t open his eyes just yet, the room far too bright for his eyes used to darkness and the bed far too comfortable for the responsibilities waiting for him to wake up.

 

When he felt himself slip too close to sleep again Jongin forced himself to open his eyes, knowing oversleeping would be worse than confirming that it indeed was 5AM could ever be. The red numbers of the alarm clock slowly came into view and Jongin groaned again, rolling over on his back and cursing the morning gods.

 

05:06 the clock read.

 

With dejected compliance he sat up. Another day awaited him. The fields needed watering, the sprouts needed caring for. Lunch and dinner needed to be done too. Maybe a visit to Mrs Choi’s café was due? Some variation in their daily cycle.

 

Jongin contemplated the idea, blindly staring at a crack in his plaster wall. His throughs stayed on Mrs Choi and the café, his fingers trailing over the still moist mattress next to him, exploring the valleys imprinted by a body not too long ago. His eyes closed as he drew in a deep breath, warm, happy, content.

 

The alarm went off again and Jongin jerked, almost falling over in his haste to turn off the alarm. Shit, he must be really tired if he had actually needed his back up alarm. Quickly, he stood up so he couldn’t fall asleep again. He pulled off his underwear lazily, kicking them into the laundry basket, walked over to his wardrobe and slid the door open.

 

Once dressed he made his way into the kitchen and straight to the fridge, grabbing a small bowl of rice with omelette prepared beforehand and tearing the cling film off the porcelain before he tore another page from the calendar. 19th of April. A small smile broke on his lips as he took a spoon of his rice and moved to open up the window shutters and let some light into the dark kitchen. With fumbling fingers, he undid the latch and forced the window shutters open.

 

The outside world stretched out in front of him, the white plaster of his neighbours’ traditional houses shining in the distance and the morning dew clinging to the fields making them sparkle in the sunlight. His closest neighbours, the Kangs, were as always already up and tending to their rice field.

 

Jongin smiled, giving them a quick wave before spooning another moonful into his mouth. On bare feet he made his way to the door connecting his kitchen with an old, traditional, no longer used kitchen. Jongin stepped into his Nike slippers waiting on the pressed dirt floor and shuddered at the cold that still lingered in the room.

 

With a final look on the old clay jars used to store kimchi that his grandmother’s father had brought with him from a visit to Seoul when he had been mere 14 years old, Jongin pushed open the door leading to the outside. The warm rays of the sun hit his cheek and Jongin drew in a deep breath, ready to take care of the cabbage field.

 

In his cabbage field, there was a man. His universe.

 

“Kyungsoo!” Jongin called, quickly making his way over to the other while giving him a once over. He was crouched down over something in their cabbage field, probably tending to the sprouts, his sleep shirt clinging to his back but no tremors running through him. He looked like he had had a normal night’s sleep, possibly a nightmare at the end of it judging from the wetness of the mattress and the sweat sticking to his body.

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo whipped around to him, revealing a small dog trapped between his legs. Jongin froze, eyes wide as he took in the sight. Kyungsoo’s eyes locked with his, looking lost, and at once Jongin found himself moving forward, ready to help Kyungsoo with all of his heart.

 

“You found a dog?” He asked, kneeling down next to Kyungsoo. The other nodded, carefully petting the shaking dog. It didn’t look much older than a puppy, its fur brown and mattered and its short limbs shaking from the cold. One of its eyes was swollen shut and its was recoiling as Kyungsoo tried to pick it up.

 

“He was trying to eat the cabbage sprouts.” Kyungsoo explained, carefully reaching out and stroking the dog’s head. It whined, flinching and trying to bite Kyungsoo’s hand. The smaller quickly pulled his hand away, fingers fisting tensely. Jongin caught the hand in his own, his thumb at once stroking over the raised lines on the back of Kyungsoo’s hand. There hadn’t been any new scabs in the past month, much to Jongin’s comfort.

 

Kyungsoo drew a breath, controlled, as the dog once again whined, shying away. Jongin reached out, slowly placing a hand on the puppy’s back. It shivered under him, but seemed to relax and as the whining stopped so did Kyungsoo. He opened his eyes, hand squeezing Jongin’s, before he reached out with his free hand and let the dog sniff it.

 

“Bad doggie, those are our babies.” Jongin spoke softly, stroking the puppy’s nose. The dog whined again, making Kyungsoo’s hand tighten around his once more but this time Kyungsoo just hushed the puppy, slowly bringing his hand around its belly so he could pick it up. The puppy curled up in the crook of his arm and with a small nod sent Jongin’s way they let go of each other’s hand, Kyungsoo’s coming up to support the puppy and Jongin’s landing on Kyungsoo’s back to keep him steady, strong.

 

“We need to take him to Doctor Nam.” Kyungsoo spoke, voice determined. Jongin recognized that voice and felt himself smile, his hand firmly pressing against Kyungsoo’s back as he leaned in and placed a kiss to the top of the other’s head. He smelled of sweat and fear, of earth and Jongin’s shampoo, of their laundry detergent and morning dew. He smelled safe, protected, protecting.

 

Jongin helped Kyungsoo stand up, the hand connecting the two of them drawing strength, from the other, for the other. Finding Kyungsoo out in the cabbage field in the mornings was nothing unusual, especially now that they were drawing close to the anniversary of Kyungsoo first showing up in his life. Most of the time the other simply woke up earlier than Jongin, having a hard time getting more than a few hours of sleep at a time and often napping for a long moment in the middle of the day. But every once in a while, the nightmares kept him awake, leaving him shivering and shaking as Jongin held him, making sure he was protected from the nothing-memories.

 

Today though, seemed like a regular day of Kyungsoo just waking up early. Which was lucky, who knows what would have happened to the dog if Kyungsoo hadn’t found it.

 

“Let’s go.” Jongin spoke, smiling at the other as he shifted the puppy in his arms. It was pressed against Kyungsoo’s chest, eyes fluttering around the area around them in a way Jongin recognized. He reached out, running a hand down the puppy’s back and at once the puppy let out a small howl of fright, hiding in Kyungsoo’s chest. Kyungsoo froze, his shoulders squaring, soft curves exchanged for hard lines.

 

Jongin felt his stomach clench, worry bubbling up inside of him as Kyungsoo visibly forced himself to relax. He didn’t like the look of that. It reminded him too much of last summer, of memories he was still struggling to forget. Of panic, the irony tang of blood, of the recoil of a gun in his hands.

 

“Nothing-memories?” He asked gently, his hand still firm against Kyungsoo’s back as the other drew a deep, controlled, forced, breath through his nose. Kyungsoo didn’t reply, but Jongin could see the answer in the way his eyes flickered across the fields, in the way his shoulders hunched, and his hands flexed against the fur of the puppy.

 

“One assignment, a family...there was a dog.” Kyungsoo said quietly, voice a strained whisper. Jongin felt his heart clench, his insides twisting. He hated everything that Kyungsoo remembered, it was never anything good. But at the same time, he knew that it often brought Kyungsoo peace, because it was never as bad as the other feared, as the nightmares and panic attacks.

 

“You’re here, you’re now. You’re this Kyungsoo, no one else.” Jongin spoke, gently pressing his lips against Kyungsoo’s temple. Kyungsoo sighed, leaning into the small kiss as his shoulders relaxed once more. In his arms the puppy stopped whining, seeming to relax as Kyungsoo did the same.

 

Once he felt sure that Kyungsoo was alright once more, Jongin hurried back to the kitchen, stumbling over his slippers, and disposed of the bowl of half eaten rice before grabbing them a jacket each. Returning outside, Jongin could see Kyungsoo slowly run his fingers over the puppy’s head, eyes locked on the animal. He looked relaxed, gentle and soft, and Jongin felt the anxiety in his chest lessen, his body feeling more solid as he walked up to the other.

 

He pulled on his own jacket and placed the other over Kyungsoo’s shoulders, helping him close it around the puppy dog who was still curled up in Kyungsoo’s arms. With one final look between the two of them, nothing of the lost look in Kyungsoo’s eyes and a smile on Jongin’s face, the two of them started walking. The road to Doctor Nam would last them almost an hour.

 

As they walked Jongin kept an eye on Kyungsoo, seeing the firm determination that burned in his eyes and the gentle way he cared for the scared dog. He was so different from when Jongin had first found him, yet so alike.

 

His hair was still long, constantly so now. Mrs Choi made sure it didn’t grow too long and kept his hair neat and trimmed just as she did with Jongin’s hair. The longer hair made him look younger, more at ease. His skin was also different, healthily tanned from hours upon hours of outdoor labour instead of pale and lifeless. He had gained weight, especially in the past few months, and what used to be hard muscles were now soft curved. Jongin especially liked his chubby cheeks, particularly in the mornings when Kyungsoo would sleepily lean over and kiss him and his face was swollen and soft, none of the stress of the day, and the past, having had time to take hold of him yet. There was also the newest addition of two barely there but still noticeable love handles around Kyungsoo’s waist. Jongin loved those, loved how they felt under his hands when he hugged Kyungsoo close and how they made Kyungsoo look comfortable in his skin. Loved how they made him look at home, made him feel at home, here with Jongin.

 

His personality had stayed the same, the same reliable steadiness, the same immaculate carefulness, the same attentive observation, the same kindness, the same love, the same security. In many ways, he had just become who he was on the inside on the outside as well.

 

There was one final difference though, one big difference. His right ear. Kyungsoo was missing the top part of it, a half circle tearing apart the cartilage and a long, straight scar running down his head behind it.

 

When Jongin had pulled the trigger on Mr Cheung back in that field almost a year ago, both Kyungsoo and Mr Cheung had gone down. There had been blood everywhere, the air thick with the smell of iron and the gunpowder burning on Jongin’s fingertips. And for half a second, the longest eternity in Jongin’s life, he had feared he had missed, and destroyed his everything.

 

Then Kyungsoo had moved, weakly rolling away from a still gurgling Mr Cheung and collapsing into a small heap a meter or two away. Jongin didn’t remember much of what had happened after that, his memory was a blur, had always been a blur. But he did remember holding Kyungsoo’s cheeks in his own like they were the most precious thing in the world, the universe, his left hand hot with blood pouring from Kyungsoo’s ear. He remembered crying, both of them, and an overwhelming feeling of being both too strong and too weak at the same time.

 

Mr Cheung had been shot in the neck, severing the carotid artery, and had bled out before either Jongin or Kyungsoo had been able to compose themselves enough to move. They had made it back to the village, ended up by Doctor Nam’s clinic, and in panic Jongin had told him everything while the other quickly tended to Kyungsoo’s ear.

 

There had been no news of bodies found in or near the abandoned old building back at the field. No one had known, except for the three of them and for a brief moment Jongin had believed that that had been it, that it was all over.

 

Not even a week had passed before he was proven wrong. A man, nameless for them still, had showed up at their door with an expensive suit, polite smile, and bone chilling stare. He had explained to them about Exodus, the project that Kyungsoo had been a part of and Jongin had ultimately put an end to when he had pulled the trigger.

 

He explained how Kyungsoo hadn’t been the only agent to go rogue, how there had been more like him but with their memories intact, and the project, although informative, had conclusively proved itself too unreliable to be worth furthering. The remaining agents had been collected and relocated into new programs, and now only Kyungsoo remained as unaccounted for.

 

They had been given an offer. Due to Kyungsoo’s loss of memory his situation was different from the other agents’. Either, Kyungsoo could return to NIS and be relocated into a new program with new training, returning to the life he had lead before Jongin. Or, he could be given a new life in Seoul, supervised in his every move but being able to live as if nothing had ever happened. Jongin would be allowed to stay here in Yukgye-ri in either case, providing he also kept quiet about everything he knew. The man hadn’t needed to add that Jongin would be under the same strict supervision as Kyungsoo in either case.

 

For the second time in less than a week, Jongin had experienced the longest eternity ever. He couldn’t imagine either option, he couldn’t imagine Kyungsoo returning to someone he was not, not anymore, and just it was just as impossible to imagine Kyungsoo living as someone he had never been, someone far away from Jongin. Someone not a part of their universe.

 

Kyungsoo had replied, forcing time to resume its pace, and asked whether he could stay here, with Jongin, instead of Seoul. He promised that neither of them would ever speak a word of it to anyone, neither of them would ever use any of the knowledge Kyungsoo had gained from the agency, nor any of the knowledge he had forgotten. They would live their lives quietly, forgotten in a small universe of themselves in the village of Yukgye-ri, farming cabbages and making kimchi.

 

The man had held Kyungsoo’s gaze for many long seconds, expression unreadable but still able to make Jongin feel as if he would never breathe again, before he had nodded. Kyungsoo could stay here as long as they never broke the rules, they would be constantly supervised and any attempt to elude the supervision the agreement would be broken. Jongin was sure that if any of that was ever to happen, they would both be dead before the day was over.

 

And as suddenly as it had been aborted, life returned to normal in Yukgye-ri. The cabbages kept growing, the kimchi kept selling, the days kept passing. Mrs Choi invited them over for dinner, scolding Kyungsoo for hurting his ear with a scythe, and Grandfather Tam gave them the same monologue as always as they borrowed the car to drive into Imsil, going to the movies this time.

 

If it weren’t for the way Kyungsoo would lean his head to the left whenever he was listening intently and the panic-stricken nightmares of blood, gunshots and the lifeless form of Mr Cheung being replaced by Kyungsoo Jongin would have through everything had just been a bad, bad dream.

 

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice brought him out of his musings and Jongin blinked, looking around himself and realizing they had reached Doctor Nam. He turned to Kyungsoo, feeling the other place a gentle hand against his lower back, keeping him centred with the firm pressure. Jongin smiled, nodding at the other that he was okay.

 

Doctor Nam opened the door on the second knock, looking confused as to why the two of them was on his doorsteps, before Kyungsoo shifted to show him the puppy. Quickly, they were rushed into the small clinic. The puppy whined as Kyungsoo set him down on the examination table, seeking out the heat he missed from the smaller.

 

Kyungsoo stayed next to it throughout the doctor’s short examination, softly petting the shaggy fur. Jongin stayed close by, his and Kyungsoo’s hands linked together by their sides and his thumb taking comfort in running over the scars on the back of Kyungsoo’s hand as Doctor Nam looked over the puppy. He wasn’t an educated veterinary, but he had been known to help out with the little livestock and family pets there was in the village whenever they seemed a little under the weather.

 

The puppy was malnourished, and one of its eyes looked infected, but other than that Doctor Nam couldn’t find anything wrong with it. They were advised to go to the veterinary clinic in Imsil as soon as possible to give it a proper check-up but until then Doctor Nam could prove them with some antibiotics that would help with the eye infection.

 

Kyungsoo listened to the instructions with attentive eyes, his head cocked slightly to the side so his left ear faced Doctor Nam more. Jongin found himself smiling at the sight, loving how even after all this time he could see the care Kyungsoo took in making sure everything was done correctly. The small puppy had escaped up into his arms as soon as the physical exam was over, curling up against his middle and Jongin reached over to pet it.

 

The safest place in the world, in Kyungsoo’s arms. The puppy was making a good choice. The dog sniffed his hand as Doctor Nam went through where the clinic was located in Imsil. Its nose was wet and cold against Jongin’s hand and he looked down, taking a step closer to his love to once again close Kyungsoo’s jacket around the puppy so it wouldn’t freeze.

 

“A dog can help with PTSD, in case you are thinking of keeping her.” Doctor Nam spoke, looking over at Jongin. Jongin raised his eyebrows, looking over at Kyungsoo who was hoisting the dog up so it could cuddle up against his neck. He did seem a lot more at ease than Jongin would have expected an outing like this would entail.

 

While Kyungsoo had always seemed to do better with unexpected events, especially socializations, than Jongin, Jongin knew that the other was always more tense than he appeared. Jongin could always tell, could always see when the walls were up, when years and years of muscle memory was moments away from being triggered, when his brain spun on all cylinders and his eyes took in every detail around him.

 

There were rarely moments where his walls were completely down outside of their home, rarely moment where they were only half up. But right now, as Kyungsoo let his eyes fall shut for half a second as the puppy snuggled up into his neck, Jongin could see the comfort that settled across Kyungsoo’s shoulders from the action. The constant tension, stress, exhaustion that he carried with him dissipated for the briefest of moments before the other opened his eyes again and looked over at Doctor Nam.

 

Jongin followed the eyes, seeing Doctor Nam smile at the two of them. He was the only one in the entire village who knew just who Kyungsoo was, just what the pair had gone through. The man had visited him too. Despite neither of them ever mentioning it they knew, knew in the way none of them wouldn’t mention it.

 

“He would be good for _both_ of you.” Doctor Nam said, locking eyes with Jongin for a moment and Jongin swallowed, looking away as his chest clenched, the air growing thin. Kyungsoo’s hand gently landed on his back once more, and Jongin managed to pull in a breath.

 

“The Chois used to have dogs when you were young, do you remember Jongin?” Doctor Nam continued, not acknowledging the way Jongin’s shoulders were hunching ever so slightly. The puppy whined, and Jongin reached over to let it press its nose against his hand, thoughts straying away from concrete rooms and the circular burn mark on his temple that ached as if the muzzle of a gun was still pressed against it.

 

“You should go to her, I’m sure she can help you set up.” Doctor Nam spoke, giving them both a smile. Jongin forced himself to return it, wanting to show his appreciation for everything the other did. He saw Kyungsoo do the same next to him, feeling his breathing even out at the sight. If Kyungsoo could stay calm, he could too. Together they had the strength.

 

The village was almost empty in the early morning, and the pair of them found themselves stopping by the hill by the cemetery, looking out over the main street as the sun rose in the sky. The whole thing looked as if it was made out of gold, bathing in a magical light that warmed everything it touched.

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes seemed like diamonds in the sunlight, full of life and happiness as he leant his head against Jongin’s shoulder, letting the puppy crawl over into the other’s arms. Jongin accepted it happily, letting it snuggle up against him as he pressed his lips against Kyungsoo’s head, breathing in the other’s calm, relaxing, scent and the morning air.

 

“I still sometimes feel like I’m in a dream.” Kyungsoo said with a small laugh, reaching over to place a hand over the puppy’s back, over Jongin’s heart. Jongin felt himself smile, memories of Kyungsoo telling him the same many times over replaying in his head.

 

“I promise you it’s real. Just as real as the both of us.” He said, turning his head to look out over the valley, seeing the village start waking up. Slowly, people started making their way out into the streets, setting up for the day and heading out to their jobs. Against his shoulder, Jongin could feel Kyungsoo’s smile widen.

  
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Kyungsoo said, pressing impossibly closer. “You’re so strong, for me, who is so weak. You saved me, from everything.” He sighed, a happy sigh that mixed with the words and enveloped Jongin from head to toe, a feeling of gentle gratitude, of firm devotion, filling his entire being.

 

“You created this universe, for me.” Kyungsoo continued, lifting his head to look at Jongin, his eyes open, full of love. They looked at home as they looked at Jongin, were looking at home, and Jongin felt his heart swell in his chest. He leaned forward, his forehead bumping against Kyungsoo’s as he basked in the strength of the other.

 

“For us.” He replied, pressing his love into Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is really it, the end. I can't believe this story has reached its end, it's almost like saying good bye to a friend in a weird way hahaha. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who has followed the story, who has read it and left kind comments and kudos. Thank you for your patience when I was slow with updates, and for not giving up despite the slow plotline. Thank you for sharing this little adventure with me <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you want updates on how the next chapter is coming along you can check out my twitter @SooSooDyo
> 
> If you liked the fic, please leave a kudos or a comment, I really appreciate every single one of them <3


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